GEORGE  MacDONALD 


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THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


From  the  Library  of 
BENNEHAN  CAMERON 

1854-1925 

Presented  by 
his  daughters 

Isabel  C.  Van  Lennep 

and 

Sally  C.  Labouisse 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/atbackofnorthwinmacd 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE 
NORTH  WIND 


Printed  in  the 
United  States  of  America 


llluatrationt  etpeciaUy  engraved  and  printed  by  The  Beck  Engraving  Company,  Philadelphia 


"»■"-»■  -  "•-- 


> 


AT  THE  BACK  OF 

TH  WIND 


By  George  MacDonald 


.r'~T""' 


25, 


n 


Illustrated  by 

Jessie  Willc  ox  Smith 


3e=; 


s: 


**-*,-* 


David  McKay 

Publisher 
Philadelphia,  MCMXIX 


Copyright,   1919,   by   David   McKay 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PACING 

PAGE 


Against  this  he  laid  his  ear,  and  then  he  heard  the  voice  quite  distinctly     14 

"Now  you  lead  me,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "and  I'll  take  care  of 
you" 46 

She  took  his  hand,  and  giving  him  the  broad  part  of  the  spiral  stair  to 
walk  on,  led  him  down  a  good  way 72 

"Are  you  ill,  dear  North  Wind?" 100 

"Dear  boy!"  said  his  mother;    "your  father's  the  best  man  in  the 
world" 120 

So  Diamond  sat  down  again  and  took  the  baby  in  his  lap 140 

The  collar  was  almost  the  worst  part  of  the  business 198 

On  the  top  of  the  great  beech-tree 324 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Hay-loft. 9 

CHAPTER  II 
The  Lawn 21 

CHAPTER  m 
Old  Diamond 29 

CHAPTER  IV 
North  Wind 40 

CHAPTER  V 

The  Summer-house 52 

CHAPTER  VI 
Out  in  the  Storm 64 

CHAPTER  Vn 
The  Cathedral 71 

CHAPTER  VIII 

The  East  Window 80 

CHAPTER  IX 

How  Diamond  Got  to  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind 85 

CHAPTER  X 
At  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind 103 

CHAPTER  XI 

How  Diamond  Got  Home  Again 108 

CHAPTER  XII 

Who  Met  Diamond  at  Sandwich 115 

CHAPTER  XIII 

The  Seaside 120 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XIV  page 

Old  Diamond  . .  . . , 132 

CHAPTER  XV 
The  Mews , 135 

CHAPTER  XVI 

Diamond  Makes  a  Beginning 139 

CHAPTER  XVII 

Diamond  Goes  On 151 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  Drunken  Cabman 160 

CHAPTER  XIX 

Diamond's  Friends 167 

CHAPTER  XX 

Diamond  Learns  to  Read 174 

CHAPTER  XXI 
Sal's  Nanny 181 

CHAPTER  XXII 
Mr.  Raymond's  Riddle 190 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

The  Early  Bird 194 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

Another  Early  Bird 197 

CHAPTER  XXV 

Diamond's  Dream 208 

CHAPTER  XXVI 

Diamond  Takes  a  Fare  the  Wrong  Way  Right 220 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

The  Children's  Hospital 228 

CHAPTER  XXVHI 

Little  Daylight 233 

CHAPTER  XXIX 

Ruby 256 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XXX 

Nanny's  Dream 263 

CHAPTER  XXXI 

The  North  Wind  Doth  Blow 280 

CHAPTER  XXXII 
Diamond  and  Ruby 284 

CHAPTER  XXXIII 

The  Prospect  Brightens 292 

CHAPTER  XXXIV 

In  the  Country , , 303 

CHAPTER  XXXV 

I  Make  Diamond's  Acquaintance 308 

CHAPTER  XXXVI 

Diamond  Questions  North  Wind 321 

CHAPTER  XXXVII 

Once  More 333 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
At  the  Back  of  the  North  Wind 340 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE 
NORTH  WIND 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  HAY-LOFT 

I  HAVE  been  asked  to  tell  you  about  the  back  of  the 
North  Wind.  An  old  Greek  writer  mentions  a  people 
who  lived  there,  and  were  so  comfortable  that  they  could 
not  bear  it  any  longer,  and  drowned  themselves.  My  story 
is  not  the  same  as  his.  I  do  not  think  Herodotus  had  got  the 
right  account  of  the  place.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  how  it 
fared  with  a  boy  who  went  there. 

He  lived  in  a  low  room  over  a  coach-house;  and  that  was 
not  by  any  means  at  the  back  of  the  North  Wind,  as  his 
mother  very  well  knew.  For  one  side  of  the  room  was  built 
only  of  boards,  and  the  boards  were  so  old  that  you  might 
run  a  penknife  through  into  the  north  wind.  And  then  let 
them  settle  between  them  which  was  the  sharper!  I  know 
that  when  you  pulled  it  out  again  the  wind  would  be  after  it 
like  a  cat  after  a  mouse,  and  you  would  know  soon  enough 
you  were  not  at  the  back  of  the  North  Wind.  Still,  this  room 
was  not  very  cold,  except  when  the  North  Wind  blew  stronger 
than  usual:  the  room  I  have  to  do  with  now  was  always  cold, 
except  in  summer,  when  the  sun  took  the  matter  into  his  own 
hands.  Indeed,  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  ought  to  call  it  a 
room  at  all;   for  it  was  just  a  loft  where  they  kept  hay  and 

[9] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

straw  and  oats  for  the  horses.    And  when  little  Diamond 

but  stop:  I  must  tell  you  that  his  father,  who  was  a  coach- 
man, had  named  him  after  a  favorite  horse,  and  his  mother 
had  had  no  objection: — when  little  Diamond  then  lay  there 
in  bed,  he  could  hear  the  horses  under  him  mmiching  away 
in  the  dark,  or  moving  sleepily  in  their  dreams.  For  Dia- 
mond's father  had  built  him  a  bed  in  the  loft  with  boards  all 
round  it,  because  they  had  so  little  room  in  their  own  end 
over  the  coach-house;  and  Diamond's  father  put  old  Diamond 
in  the  stall  under  the  bed,  because  he  was  a  quiet  horse,  and 
did  not  go  to  sleep  standing,  but  lay  down  like  a  reasonable 
creature.  But,  although  he  was  a  surprisingly  reasonable 
creature,  yet,  when  young  Diamond  woke  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  and  felt  the  bed  shaking  in  the  blasts  of  the  north 
wind,  he  could  not  help  wondering  whether,  if  the  wind  should 
blow  the  house  down,  and  he  were  to  fall  through  into  the 
manger,  old  Diamond  mightn't  eat  him  up  before  he  knew 
him  in  his  nightgown.  And  although  old  Diamond  was  very 
quiet  all  night  long,  yet  when  he  woke  he  got  up  like  an 
earthquake,  and  then  young  Diamond  knew  what  o'clock  it 
was,  or  at  least  what  was  to  be  done  next,  which  was — to  go 
to  sleep  again  as  fast  as  he  could. 

There  was  hay  at  his  feet  and  hay  at  his  head,  piled  up 
in  great  trusses  to  the  very  roof.  Indeed  it  was  sometimes 
only  through  a  little  lane  with  several  turnings,  which  looked 
as  if  it  had  been  sawn  out  for  him,  that  he  could  reach  his 
bed  at  all.  For  the  stock  of  hay  was,  of  course,  always  in  a 
state  either  of  slow  ebb  or  of  sudden  flow.     Sometimes  the 

whole  space  of  the  loft,  with  the  little  panes  in  the  roof  for 

[10] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

the  stars  to  look  in,  would  lie  open  before  his  open  eyes  as  he 
lay  in  bed;  sometimes  a  yellow  wall  of  sweet-smelling  fibres 
closed  up  his  view  at  the  distance  of  half  a  yard.  Sometimes, 
when  his  mother  had  undressed  him  in  her  room,  and  told 
him  to  trot  away  to  bed  by  himself,  he  would  creep  into  the 
heart  of  the  hay,  and  lie  there  thinking  how  cold  it  was  out- 
side in  the  wind,  and  how  warm  it  was  inside  there  in  his  bed, 
and  how  he  could  go  to  it  when  he  pleased,  only  he  wouldn't 
just  yet;  he  would  get  a  little  colder  first.  And  ever  as  he 
grew  colder,  his  bed  would  grow  warmer,  till  at  last  he  would 
scramble  out  of  the  hay,  shoot  like  an  arrow  into  his  bed, 
cover  himself  up,  and  snuggle  down,  thinking  what  a  happy 
boy  he  was.  He  had  not  the  least  idea  that  the  wind  got  in 
at  a  chink  in  the  wall,  and  blew  about  him  all  night.  For 
the  back  of  his  bed  was  only  of  boards  an  inch  thick,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  them  was  the  north  wind. 

Now,  as  I  have  already  said,  these  boards  were  soft  and 
crumbly.  To  be  sure,  they  were  tarred  on  the  outside,  yet 
in  many  places  they  were  more  like  tinder  than  timber.  Hence 
it  happened  that  the  soft  part  having  worn  away  from  about 
it,  little  Diamond  found  one  night,  after  he  lay  dowm,  that 
a  knot  had  come  out  of  one  of  them,  and  that  the  wind  was 
blowing  in  upon  him  in  a  cold  and  rather  imperious  fashion. 
Now  he  had  no  fancy  for  leaving  things  wrong  that  might  be 
set  right;  so  he  jumped  out  of  bed  again,  got  a  little  strike 
of  hay,  twisted  it  up,  folded  it  in  the  middle,  and,  having 
thus  made  it  into  a  cork,  stuck  it  into  the  hole  in  the  wall. 
But  the  wind  began  to  blow  loud  and  angrily,  and,  as  Dia- 
mond was  falling  asleep,  out  blew  his  cork  and  hit  him  on  the 

[in 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

nose,  just  hard  enough  to  wake  him  up  quite,  and  let  him 
hear  the  wind  whistling  shrill  in  the  hole.  He  searched  for 
his  hay -cork,  found  it,  stuck  it  in  harder,  and  was  just  drop- 
ping off  once  more,  when,  pop!  with  an  angry  whistle  behind 
it,  the  cork  struck  him  again,  this  time  on  the  cheek.  Up  he 
rose  once  more,  made  a  fresh  stopple  of  hay,  and  corked  the 
hole  severely.  But  he  was  hardly  down  again  before— pop !  it 
came  on  his  forehead.  He  gave  it  up,  drew  the  clothes  above 
his  head,  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Although  the  next  day  was  very  stormy,  Diamond  forgot 
all  about  the  hole,  for  he  was  busy  making  a  cave  by  the  side 
of  his  mother's  fire,  with  a  broken  chair,  a  three-legged  stool, 
and  a  blanket,  and  then  sitting  in  it.  His  mother,  however, 
discovered  it,  and  pasted  a  bit  of  brown  paper  over  it,  so 
that,  when  Diamond  had  snuggled  down  the  next  night,  he 
had  no  occasion  to  think  of  it. 

Presently,  however,  he  lifted  his  head  and  listened.  Who 
could  that  be  talking  to  him?  The  wind  was  rising  again, 
and  getting  very  loud,  and  full  of  rushes  and  whistles.  He 
was  sure  some  one  was  talking — and  very  near  him  too  it 
was.  But  he  was  not  frightened,  for  he  had  not  yet  learned 
how  to  be;  so  he  sat  up  and  hearkened.  At  last  the  voice, 
which,  though  quite  gentle,  sounded  a  little  angry,  appeared 
to  come  from  the  back  of  the  bed.  He  crept  nearer  to  it, 
and  laid  his  ear  against  the  wall.  Then  he  heard  nothing  but 
the  wind,  which  sounded  very  loud  indeed.  The  moment, 
however,  that  he  moved  his  head  from  the  wall,  he  heard  the 
voice  again,  close  to  his  ear.  He  felt  about  with  his  hand, 
and  came  upon  the  piece  of  paper  his  mother  had  pasted 

[12] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

over  the  hole.  Against  this  he  laid  his  ear,  and  then  he  heard 
the  voice  quite  distinctly.  There  was,  in  fact,  a  little  corner 
of  the  paper  loose,  and  through  that,  as  from  a  mouth  in  the 
wall,  the  voice  came. 

"What  do  you  mean,  little  boy — closing  up  my  window?" 

"What  window?"  asked  Diamond. 

"You  stuffed  hay  into  it  three  times  last  night.  I  had  to 
blow  it  out  again  three  times." 

"You  can't  mean  this  little  hole!  It  isn't  a  window;  it's 
a  hole  in  my  bed." 

"I  did  not  say  it  was  a  window:  I  said  it  was  my  win- 
dow." 

"But  it  can't  be  a  window,  because  windows  are  holes  to 
see  out  of." 

"Well,  that's  just  what  I  made  this  window  for." 

"But  you  are  outside:   you  can't  want  a  window." 

"You  are  quite  mistaken.  Windows  are  to  see  out  of, 
you  say.  Well,  I'm  in  my  house,  and  I  want  windows  to  see 
out  of  it." 

"But  you've  made  a  window  into  my  bed." 

"Well,  your  mother  has  got  three  windows  into  my  danc- 
ing-room, and  you  have  three  into  my  garret." 

"But  I  heard  father  say,  when  my  mother  wanted  him  to 
make  a  window  through  the  wall,  that  it  was  against  the  law 
for  it  would  look  into  Mr.  Dyves's  garden." 

The  voice  laughed. 

"The  law  would  have  some  trouble  to  catch  me!"  it  said. 

"But  if  it's  not  right,  you  know,"  said  Diamond,  "that's 
no  matter.    You  shouldn't  do  it." 

[13] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  am  so  tall  I  am  above  that  law,"  said  the  voice. 

"You  must  have  a  tall  house,  then,"  said  Diamond. 

"Yes;   a  tall  house:   the  clouds  are  inside  it." 

"Dear  me!"  said  Diamond,  and  thought  a  minute.  "I 
think,  then,  you  can  hardly  expect  me  to  keep  a  window  in 
my  bed  for  you.  Why  don't  you  make  a  window  into  Mr. 
Dyves's  bed?" 

"Nobody  makes  a  window  into  an  ash-pit,"  said  the  voice, 
rather  sadly.     "I  like  to  see  nice  things  out  of  my  windows." 

"But  he  must  have  a  nicer  bed  than  I  have,  though  mine 
is  very  nice — so  nice  that  I  couldn't  wish  a  better." 

"It's  not  the  bed  I  care  about:  it's  what  is  in  it.  But 
you  just  open  that  window." 

"Well,  mother  says  I  shouldn't  be  disobliging;  but  it's 
rather  hard.  You  see  the  north  wind  will  blow  right  in  my 
face  if  I  do." 

"I  am  the  North  Wind." 

"O-o-oh!"  said  Diamond,  thoughtfully.  "Then  will  you 
promise  not  to  blow  on  my  face  if  I  open  your  window?" 

"I  can't  promise  that." 

"But  you'll  give  me  the  toothache.  Mother's  got  it 
already." 

"But  what's  to  become  of  me  without  a  window?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  All  I  say  is,  it  will  be  worse  for 
me  than  for  you." 

"No;  it  will  not.  You  shall  not  be  the  worse  for  it — I 
promise  you  that.  You  will  be  much  the  better  for  it.  Just 
you  believe  what  I  say,  and  do  as  I  tell  you." 

"Well,  I  can  pull  the  clothes  over  my  head,"  said  Diamond, 

[14] 


©  D.MS  K 


Against  this  he  laid    his  ear,  and  then  he  heard  the  voice 
quite  distinctly. 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  feeling  with  his  little  sharp  nails,  he  got  hold  of  the  open 
edge  of  the  paper  and  tore  it  off  at  once. 

In  came  a  long  whistling  spear  of  cold,  and  struck  his 
little  naked  chest.  He  scrambled  and  tumbled  in  under  the 
bed-clothes,  and  covered  himself  up :  there  was  no  paper  now 
between  him  and  the  voice,  and  he  felt  a  little — not  fright- 
ened exactly — I  told  you  he  had  not  learned  that  yet — but 
rather  queer;  for  what  a  strange  person  this  North  Wind 
must  be  that  lived  in  the  great  house — "called  Out-of -Doors, 
I  suppose,"  thought  Diamond — and  made  windows  into 
people's  beds!  But  the  voice  began  again;  and  he  could 
hear  it  quite  plainly,  even  with  his  head  under  the  bed- 
clothes. It  was  a  still  more  gentle  voice  now,  although  six 
times  as  large  and  loud  as  it  had  been,  and  he  thought  it 
sounded  a  little  like  his  mother's. 

"What  is  your  name,  little  boy?"  it  asked. 

"Diamond,"  answered  Diamond,  under  the  bed-clothes. 

"What  a  funny  name!" 

"It's  a  very  nice  name,"  returned  its  owner. 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  the  voice. 

"Well,  I  do,"  retorted  Diamond,  a  little  rudely. 

"Do  you  know  to  whom  you  are  speaking?" 

"No,"  said  Diamond. 

And  indeed  he  did  not.  For  to  know  a  person's  name  is 
not  always  to  know  the  person's  self. 

"Then  I  must  not  be  angry  with  you.  You  had  better 
look  and  see,  though." 

"Diamond  is  a  very  pretty  name,"  persisted  the  boy, 
vexed  that  it  should  not  give  satisfaction. 

[15] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Diamond  is  a  useless  thing  rather."  said  the  voice. 

"That's  not  true.  Diamond  is  very  nice — as  big  as  two — 
and  so  quiet  all  night!  And  doesn't  he  make  a  jolly  row  in  the 
morning,  getting  up  on  his  four  great  legs !    It's  like  thunder." 

"You  don't  seem  to  know  what  a  diamond  is." 

"Oh,  don't  I  just!  Diamond  is  a  great  and  good  horse; 
and  he  sleeps  right  under  me.  He  is  Old  Diamond,  and  I 
am  Young  Diamond;  or,  if  you  like  it  better,  for  you're  very 
particular,  Mr.  North  Wind,  he's  Big  Diamond,  and  I'm  Little 
Diamond;  and  I  don't  know  which  of  us  my  father  likes 
best." 

A  beautiful  laugh,  large  but  very  soft  and  musical,  sounded 
somewhere  beside  him,  but  Diamond  kept  his  head  under  the 
clothes. 

"I'm  not  Mr.  North  Wind,"  said  the  voice. 

"You  told  me  that  you  were  the  North  Wind,"  insisted 
Diamond. 

"I  did  not  say  Mister  North  Wind,"  said  the  voice. 

"Well,  then,  I  do;  for  mother  tells  me  I  ought  to  be 
polite." 

"Then  let  me  tell  you  I  don't  think  it  at  all  polite  of  you 
to  say  Mister  to  me." 

"Well,  I  didn't  know  better.     I'm  very  sorry." 

"But  you  ought  to  know  better." 

"I  don't  know  that." 

"I  do.  You  can't  say  it's  polite  to  lie  there  talking — 
with  your  head  under  the  bed-clothes,  and  never  look  up  to 
see  what  kind  of  person  you  are  talking  to. — I  want  you  to 
come  out  with  me." 

[16] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  want  to  go  to  sleep,"  said  Diamond,  very  nearly  cry- 
ing, for  he  did  not  like  to  be  scolded,  even  when  he  deserved  it. 

"You  shall  sleep  all  the  better  to-morrow  night." 

"Besides,"  said  Diamond,  "you  are  out  in  Mr.  Dyves's 
garden,  and  I  can't  get  there.  I  can  only  get  into  our  own 
yard." 

"Will  you  take  your  head  out  of  the  bed-clothes?"  said 
the  voice,  just  a  little  angrily. 

"No!"  answered  Diamond,  half  peevish,  half  frightened. 

The  instant  he  said  the  word,  a  tremendous  blast  of  wind 
crashed  in  a  board  of  the  wall,  and  swept  the  clothes  off  Dia- 
mond. He  started  up  in  terror.  Leaning  over  him  was  the 
large  beautiful  pale  face  of  a  woman.  Her  dark  eyes  looked 
a  little  angry,  for  they  had  just  begun  to  flash;  but  a  quiver- 
ing in  her  sweet  upper  lip  made  her  look  as  if  she  were  going 
to  cry.  What  was  most  strange  was  that  away  from  her  head 
streamed  out  her  black  hair  in  every  direction,  so  that  the 
darkness  in  the  hayloft  looked  as  if  it  were  made  of  her  hair; 
but  as  Diamond  gazed  at  her  in  speechless  amazement, 
mingled  with  confidence — for  the  boy  was  entranced  with  her 
mighty  beauty — her  hair  began  to  gather  itself  out  of  the 
darkness,  and  fell  down  all  about  her  again,  till  her  face  looked 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  like  a  moon  out  of  a  cloud.  From  her 
eyes  came  all  the  light  by  which  Diamond  saw  her  face  and 
her  hair;  and  that  was  all  he  did  see  of  her  yet.  The  wind 
was  over  and  gone. 

"Will  you  go  with  me  now,  you  little  Diamond?  I  am 
sorry  I  was  forced  to  be  so  rough  with  you,"  said  the  lady. 

"I  will;    yes,  I  will,"   answered   Diamond,   holding  out 

[17] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

both  his  arms.  "But,"  he  added,  dropping  them,  "how  shall 
I  get  my  clothes?  They  are  in  mother's  room,  and  the  door 
is  locked." 

"Oh,  never  mind  your  clothes.  You  will  not  be  cold.  I 
shall  take  care  of  that.  Nobody  is  cold  with  the  North 
Wind." 

"I  thought  everybody  was,"  said  Diamond. 

"That  is  a  great  mistake.  Most  people  make  it,  however. 
They  are  cold  because  they  are  not  with  the  North  Wind, 
but  without  it." 

If  Diamond  had  been  a  little  older,  and  had  supposed 
himself  a  good  deal  wiser,  he  would  have  thought  the  lady 
was  joking.  But  he  was  not  older,  and  did  not  fancy  himself 
wiser,  and  therefore  understood  her  well  enough.  Again  he 
stretched  out  his  arms.     The  lady's  face  drew  back  a  little. 

"Follow  me,  Diamond,"  she  said. 

"Yes,"  said  Diamond,  only  a  little  ruefully. 

"You're  not  afraid?"  said  the  North  Wind. 

"No,  ma'am;  but  mother  never  would  let  me  go  without 
shoes:  she  never  said  anything  about  clothes,  so  I  dare  say 
she  wouldn't  mind  that." 

"I  know  your  mother  very  well,"  said  the  lady.  "She 
is  a  good  woman.  I  have  visited  her  often.  I  was  with  her 
when  you  were  born.  I  saw  her  laugh  and  cry  both  at  once, 
I  love  your  mother,  Diamond." 

"How  was  it  you  did  not  know  my  name,  then,  ma'am? 
Please  am  I  to  say  ma'am  to  you,  ma'am?" 

"One  question  at  a  time,  dear  boy.  I  knew  your  name 
quite  well,  but  I  wanted  to  hear  what  you  would  say  for  it. 

[18] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Don't  you  remember  that  day  when  the  man  was  finding 
fault  with  your  name — how  I  blew  the  window  in?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  Diamond,  eagerly.  "Our  window 
opens  like  a  door,  right  over  the  coach-house  door.  And  the 
wind — you,  ma'am — came  in,  and  blew  the  bible  out  of  the 
man's  hands,  and  the  leaves  went  all  flutter  flutter  on  the 
floor,  and  my  mother  picked  it  up  and  gave  it  back  to  him 
open,  and  there — — " 

"Was  your  name  in  the  bible, — the  sixth  stone  in  the  high- 
priest's  breast-plate." 

"Oh! — a  stone,  was  it?"  said  Diamond.  "I  thought  it 
had  been  a  horse — I  did." 

"Never  mind.  A  horse  is  better  than  a  stone  any  day. 
Well,  you  see,  I  know  all  about  you  and  your  mother." 

"Yes.     I  will  go  with  you." 

"Now  for  the  next  question:  you're  not  to  call  me  ma9 am. 
You  must  call  me  just  my  own  name — respectfully,  you  know 
—just  North  Wind." 

"Well,  please,  North  Wind,  you  are  so  beautiful,  I  am  quite 
ready  to  go  with  you." 

"You  must  not  be  ready  to  go  with  everything  beautiful 
all  at  once,  Diamond." 

"But  what's  beautiful  can't  be  bad.  You're  not  bad, 
North  Wind?" 

"No;  I'm  not  bad.  But  sometimes  beautiful  things  grow 
bad  by  doing  bad,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  their  badness 
to  spoil  their  beauty.  So  little  boys  may  be  mistaken  if  they 
go  after  things  because  they  are  beautiful." 

[19] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Well,  I  will  go  with  you  because  you  are  beautiful  and 
good  too." 

"Ah,  but  there's  another  thing,  Diamond: — What  if  I 
should  look  ugly  without  being  bad — look  ugly  myself  be- 
cause I  am  making  ugly  things  beautiful? — What  then?" 

"I  don't  quite  understand  you,  North  Wind.  You  tell 
me  what  then." 

"Well,  I  will  tell  you.  If  you  see  me  with  my  face  all 
black,  don't  be  frightened.  If  you  see  me  flapping  wings  like 
a  bat's,  as  big  as  the  whole  sky,  don't  be  frightened.  If  you 
hear  me  raging  ten  times  worse  than  Mrs.  Bill,  the  black- 
smith's wife — even  if  you  see  me  looking  in  at  people's  win- 
dows like  Mrs.  Eve  Dropper,  the  gardener's  wife — you  must 
believe  that  I  am  doing  my  work.  Nay,  Diamond,  if  I  change 
into  a  serpent  or  a  tiger,  you  must  not  let  go  your  hold  of 
me,  for  my  hand  will  never  change  in  yours  if  you  keep  a 
good  hold.  If  you  keep  a  hold,  you  will  know  who  I  am  all 
the  time,  even  when  you  look  at  me  and  can't  see  me  the 
least  like  the  North  Wind.  I  may  look  something  very  awful. 
Do  you  understand?" 

"Quite  well,"  said  little  Diamond. 

"Come  along,  then,"  said  North  Wind,  and  disappeared 
behind  the  mountain  of  hay. 

Diamond  crept  out  of  bed  and  followed  her. 


[20] 


CHAPTER  H 
THE  LAWN 

WHEN  Diamond  got  round  the  corner  of  the  hay, 
for  a  moment  he  hesitated.  The  stair  by  which 
he  would  naturally  have  gone  down  to  the  door 
was  at  the  other  side  of  the  loft,  and  looked  very  black  in- 
deed; for  it  was  full  of  North  Wind's  hair,  as  she  descended 
before  him.  And  just  beside  him  was  the  ladder  going  straight 
down  into  the  stable,  up  which  his  father  always  came  to 
fetch  the  hay  for  Diamond's  dinner.  Through  the  opening 
in  the  floor  the  faint  gleam  of  the  stable-lantern  was  enticing, 
and  Diamond  thought  he  would  run  down  that  way. 

The  stair  went  close  past  the  loose-box  in  which  Diamond 
the  horse  lived.  When  Diamond  the  boy  was  half-way  down, 
he  remembered  that  it  was  of  no  use  to  go  this  way,  for  the 
stable-door  was  locked.  But  at  the  same  moment  there  was 
horse  Diamond's  great  head  poked  out  of  his  box  on  to  the 
ladder,  for  he  knew  boy  Diamond  although  he  was  in  his 
night-gown,  and  wanted  him  to  pull  his  ears  for  him.  This 
Diamond  did  very  gently  for  a  minute  or  so,  and  patted  and 
stroked  his  neck  too,  and  kissed  the  big  horse,  and  had  begun 
to  take  the  bits  of  straw  and  hay  out  of  his  mane,  when  all 
at  once  he  recollected  that  the  Lady  North  Wind  was  waiting 
for  him  in  the  yard. 

"Good  night,  Diamond,"  he  said,  and  darted  up  the  lad- 

[  21  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

der,  across  the  loft,  and  down  the  stair  to  the  door.  But  when 
he  got  out  into  the  yard,  there  was  no  lady. 

Now  it  is  always  a  dreadful  thing  to  think  there  is  some- 
body and  find  nobody.  Children  in  particular  have  not  made 
up  their  minds  to  it;  they  generally  cry  at  nobody,  especially 
when  they  wake  up  at  night.  But  it  was  an  especial  dis- 
appointment to  Diamond,  for  his  little  heart  had  been  beat- 
ing with  joy:  the  face  of  the  North  Wind  was  so  grand!  To 
have  a  lady  like  that  for  a  friend — with  such  long  hair,  too! 
Why,  it  was  longer  than  twenty  Diamonds'  tails!  She  was 
gone.  And  there  he  stood,  with  his  bare  feet  on  the  stones 
of  the  paved  yard. 

It  was  a  clear  night  overhead,  and  the  stars  were  shining. 
Orion  in  particular  was  making  the  most  of  his  bright  belt 
and  golden  sword.  But  the  moon  was  only  a  poor  thin  cres- 
cent. There  was  just  one  great,  jagged,  black  and  grey  cloud 
in  the  sky,  with  a  steep  side  to  it  like  a  precipice;  and  the 
moon  was  against  this  side,  and  looked  as  if  she  had  tumbled 
off  the  top  of  the  cloud-hill,  and  broken  herself  in  rolling 
down  the  precipice.  She  did  not  seem  comfortable,  for  she 
was  looking  down  into  the  deep  pit  waiting  for  her.  At  least 
that  was  what  Diamond  thought  as  he  stood  for  a  moment 
staring  at  her.  But  he  was  quite  wrong,  for  the  moon  was 
not  afraid,  and  there  was  no  pit  she  was  going  down  into, 
for  there  were  no  sides  to  it,  and  a  pit  without  sides  to  it  is 
not  a  pit  at  all.  Diamond,  however,  had  not  been  out  so 
late  before  in  all  his  life,  and  things  looked  so  strange  about 
him! — just  as  if  he  had  got  into  Fairyland,  of  which  he  knew 
quite  as  much  as  anybody;   for  his  mother  had  no  money  to 

[22] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

buy  books  to  set  him  wrong  on  the  subject.  I  have  seen  this 
world — only  sometimes,  just  now  and  then,  you  know — look 
as  strange  as  ever  I  saw  Fairyland.  But  I  confess  that  I 
have  not  yet  seen  Fairyland  at  its  best.  I  am  always  going 
to  see  it  so  some  time.  But  if  you  had  been  out  in  the  face 
and  not  at  the  back  of  the  North  Wind,  on  a  cold  rather 
frosty  night,  and  in  your  night-gown,  you  would  have  felt  it 
all  quite  as  strange  as  Diamond  did.  He  cried  a  little,  just  a 
little,  he  was  so  disappointed  to  lose  the  lady:  of  course, 
you,  little  man,  wouldn't  have  done  that!  But  for  my  part, 
I  don't  mind  people  crying,  so  much  as  I  mind  what  they 
cry  about,  and  how  they  cry — whether  they  cry  quietly  like 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  or  go  shrieking  like  vulgar  emperors, 
or  ill-natured  cooks;  for  all  emperors  are  not  gentlemen,  and 
all  cooks  are  not  ladies — nor  all  queens  and  princesses  for 
that  matter,  either. 

But  it  can't  be  denied  that  a  little  gentle  crying  does  one 
good.  It  did  Diamond  good;  for  as  soon  as  it  was  over  he 
was  a  brave  boy  again. 

"She  shan't  say  it  was  my  fault  anyhow!"  said  Diamond. 
"I  daresay  she  is  hiding  somewhere  to  see  what  I  will  do. 
I  will  look  for  her." 

So  he  went  round  the  end  of  the  stable  towards  the  kitchen- 
garden.  But  the  moment  he  was  clear  of  the  shelter  of  the 
stable,  sharp  as  a  knife  came  the  wind  against  his  little  chest 
and  his  bare  legs.  Still  he  would  look  in  the  kitchen-garden, 
and  went  on.  But  when  he  got  round  the  weeping-ash  that 
stood  in  the  corner,  the  wind  blew  much  stronger,  and  it  grew 
stronger  and  stronger  till  he  could  hardly  fight  against  it. 

123] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  it  was  so  cold!  All  the  flashy  spikes  of  the  stars  seemed 
to  have  got  somehow  into  the  wind.  Then  he  thought  of 
what  the  lady  had  said  about  people  being  cold  because  they 
were  not  with  the  North  Wind.  How  it  was  that  he  should 
have  guessed  what  she  meant  at  that  very  moment  I  cannot 
tell,  but  I  have  observed  that  the  most  wonderful  thing  in 
the  world  is  how  people  come  to  understand  anything.  He 
turned  his  back  to  the  wind,  and  trotted  again  towards  the 
yard;  whereupon,  strange  to  say,  it  blew  so  much  more 
gently  against  his  calves  than  it  had  blown  against  his  shins, 
that  he  began  to  feel  almost  warm  by  contrast. 

You  must  not  think  it  was  cowardly  of  Diamond  to  turn 
his  back  to  the  wind :  he  did  so  only  because  he  thought  Lady 
North  Wind  had  said  something  like  telling  him  to  do  so. 
If  she  had  said  to  him  that  he  must  hold  his  face  to  it,  Dia- 
mond would  have  held  his  face  to  it.  But  the  most  foolish 
thing  is  to  fight  for  no  good,  and  to  please  nobody. 

Well,  it  was  just  as  if  the  wind  was  pushing  Diamond 
along.  If  he  turned  round,  it  grew  very  sharp  on  his  legs 
especially,  and  so  he  thought  the  wind  might  really  be  Lady 
North  Wind,  though  he  could  not  see  her,  and  he  had  better 
let  her  blow  him  wherever  she  pleased.  So  she  blew  and  blew, 
and  he  went  and  went,  until  he  found  himself  standing  at  a 
door  in  a  wall  which  door  led  from  the  yard  into  a  little  belt 
of  shrubbery,  flanking  Mr.  Coleman's  house.  Mr.  Coleman 
was  his  father's  master,  and  the  owner  of  Diamond.  He 
opened  the  door,  and  went  through  the  shrubbery,  and  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  lawn,  still  hoping  to  find  North  Wind. 
The  soft  grass  was  veiy  pleasant  to  his  bare  feet,  and  felt 

[U] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

warm  after  the  stones  of  the  yard;  but  the  lady  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen.  Then  he  began  to  think  that  after  all  he  must 
have  done  wrong,  and  she  was  offended  with  him  for  not  fol- 
lowing close  after  her,  but  staying  to  talk  to  the  horse,  which 
certainly  was  neither  wise  nor  polite. 

There  he  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  lawn,  the  wind  blow- 
ing his  night-gown  till  it  flapped  like  a  loose  sail.  The  stars 
were  very  shiny  over  his  head;  but  they  did  not  give  light 
enough  to  show  that  the  grass  was  green;  and  Diamond 
stood  alone  in  the  strange  night,  which  looked  half  solid  all 
about  him.  He  began  to  wonder  whether  he  was  in  a  dream 
or  not.  It  was  important  to  determine  this;  "for,"  thought 
Diamond,  "if  I  am  in  a  dream,  I  am  safe  in  my  bed,  and  I 
needn't  cry.  But  if  I'm  not  in  a  dream,  I'm  out  here,  and 
perhaps  I  had  better  cry,  or,  at  least,  I'm  not  sure  whether 
I  can  help  it."  He  came  to  the  conclusion,  however,  that, 
whether  he  was  in  a  dream  or  not,  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  not  crying  for  a  little  while  longer:  he  could  begin  when- 
ever he  liked. 

The  back  of  Mr.  Coleman's  house  was  to  the  lawn,  and 
one  of  the  drawing-room  windows  looked  out  upon  it.  The 
ladies  had  not  gone  to  bed;  for  the  light  was  still  shining  in 
that  window.  But  they  had  no  idea  that  a  little  boy  was 
standing  on  the  lawn  in  his  night-gown,  or  they  would  have 
run  out  in  a  moment.  And  as  long  as  he  saw  that  light,  Dia- 
mond could  not  feel  quite  lonely.  He  stood  staring,  not  at 
the  great  warrior  Orion  in  the  sky,  nor  yet  at  the  disconsolate, 
neglected  moon  going  down  in  the  west,  but  at  the  drawing- 
room  window  with  the  light  shining  through  its  green  cur- 

[25] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

tains.  He  had  been  in  that  room  once  or  twice  that  he  could 
remember  at  Christmas  times;  for  the  Colemans  were  kind 
people,  though  they  did  not  care  much  about  children. 

All  at  once  the  light  went  nearly  out:  he  could  only  see 
a  glimmer  of  the  shape  of  the  window.  Then,  indeed,  he  felt 
that  he  was  left  alone.  It  was  so  dreadful  to  be  out  in  the 
night  after  everybody  was  gone  to  bed!  That  was  more  than 
he  could  bear.  He  burst  out  crying  in  good  earnest,  begin- 
ning with  a  wail  like  that  of  the  wind  when  it  is  waking  up. 

Perhaps  you  think  this  was  very  foolish;  for  could  he  not 
go  home  to  his  own  bed  again  when  he  liked?  Yes;  but  it 
looked  dreadful  to  him  to  creep  up  that  stair  again  and  lie 
down  in  his  bed  again,  and  know  that  North  Wind's  window 
was  open  beside  him,  and  she  gone,  and  he  might  never  see 
her  again.  He  would  be  just  as  lonely  there  as  here.  Nay, 
it  would  be  much  worse  if  he  had  to  think  that  the  window 
was  nothing  but  a  hole  in  the  wall. 

At  the  very  moment  when  he  burst  out  crying,  the  old 
nurse,  who  had  grown  to  be  one  of  the  family,  for  she  had 
not  gone  away  when  Miss  Coleman  did  not  want  any  more 
nursing,  came  to  the  back-door,  which  was  of  glass,  to  close 
the  shutters.  She  thought  she  heard  a  cry,  and,  peering  out 
with  a  hand  on  each  side  of  her  eyes  like  Diamond's  blinkers, 
she  saw  something  white  on  the  lawn.  Too  old  and  too  wise 
to  be  frightened,  she  opened  the  door,  and  went  straight  to- 
wards the  white  thing  to  see  what  it  was.  And  when  Diamond 
saw  her  coming  he  was  not  frightened  either,  though  Mrs. 
Crump  was  a  little  cross  sometimes;  for  there  is  a  good  kind 
of  crossness  that  is  only  disagreeable,  and  there  is  a  bad  kind 

[26] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

of  crossness  that  is  very  nasty  indeed.  So  she  came  up  with 
her  neck  stretched  out,  and  her  head  at  the  end  of  it,  and  her 
eyes  foremost  of  all,  like  a  snail's,  peering  into  the  night  to 
see  what  it  could  be  that  went  on  glimmering  white  before 
her.  When  she  did  see,  she  made  a  great  exclamation,  and 
threw  up  her  hands.  Then  without  a  word,  for  she  thought 
Diamond  was  walking  in  his  sleep,  she  caught  hold  of  him 
and  led  him  towards  the  house.  He  made  no  objection,  for 
he  was  just  in  the  mood  to  be  grateful  for  notice  of  any  sort, 
and  Mrs.  Crump  led  him  straight  into  the  drawing-room. 

Now,  from  the  neglect  of  the  new  housemaid,  the  fire  in 
Miss  Coleman's  bed-room  had  gone  out,  and  her  mother  had 
told  her  to  brush  her  hair  by  the  drawing-room  fire — a  dis- 
orderly proceeding  which  a  mother's  wish  could  justify.  The 
young  lady  was  very  lovely,  though  not  nearly  so  beautiful 
as  North  Wind;  and  her  hair  was  extremely  long,  for  it  came 
down  to  her  knees — though  that  was  nothing  at  all  to  North 
Wind's  hair.  Yet  when  she  looked  round,  with  her  hair  all 
about  her,  as  Diamond  entered,  he  thought  for  one  moment 
that  it  was  North  Wind,  and,  pulling  his  hand  from  Mrs. 
Crump's,  he  stretched  out  his  arms  and  ran  towards  Miss 
Coleman.  She  was  so  pleased  that  she  threw  down  her  brush, 
and  almost  knelt  on  the  floor  to  receive  him  in  her  arms.  He 
saw  the  next  moment  that  she  was  not  Lady  North  Wind, 
but  she  looked  so  like  her  he  could  not  help  running  into  her 
arms  and  bursting  into  tears  afresh.  Mrs.  Crump  said  the 
poor  child  had  walked  out  in  his  sleep,  and  Diamond  thought 
she  ought  to  know,  and  did  not  contradict  her:  for  anything 
he  knew,  it  might  be  so  indeed.    He  let  them  talk  on  about 

[27] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

him,  and  said  nothing;  and  when,  after  their  astonishment 
was  over,  and  Miss  Coleman  had  given  him  a  sponge-cake, 
it  was  decreed  that  Mrs.  Crump  should  take  him  to  his  mother, 
he  was  quite  satisfied. 

His  mother  had  to  get  out  of  bed  to  open  the  door  when 
Mrs.  Crump  knocked.  She  was  indeed  surprised  to  see  her 
boy;  and  having  taken  him  in  her  arms  and  carried  him  to 
his  bed,  returned  and  had  a  long  confabulation  with  Mrs. 
Crump,  for  they  were  still  talking  when  Diamond  fell  fast 
asleep,  and  could  hear  them  no  longer. 


[28] 


CHAPTER  III 
OLD  DIAMOND 

DIAMOND  woke  very  early  in  the  morning,  and 
thought  what  a  curious  dream  he  had  had.  But 
the  memory  grew  brighter  and  brighter  in  his  head, 
until  it  did  not  look  altogether  like  a  dream,  and  he  began 
to  doubt  whether  he  had  not  really  been  abroad  in  the  wind 
last  night.  He  came  to  the  conclusion  that,  if  he  had  really 
been  brought  home  to  his  mother  by  Mrs.  Crump,  she  would 
say  something  to  him  about  it,  and  that  would  settle  the 
matter.  Then  he  got  up  and  dressed  himself,  but,  finding 
that  his  father  and  mother  were  not  yet  stirring,  he  went 
down  the  ladder  to  the  stable.  There  he  found  that  even  old 
Diamond  was  not  awake  yet,  for  he,  as  well  as  young  Dia- 
mond, always  got  up  the  moment  he  woke,  and  now  he  was 
lying  as  flat  as  a  horse  could  lie  upon  his  nice  trim  bed  of 
straw. 

"I'll  give  old  Diamond  a  surprise,"  thought  the  boy;  and 
creeping  up  very  softly,  before  the  horse  knew,  he  was  astride 
of  his  back.  Then  it  was  young  Diamond's  turn  to  have 
more  of  a  surprise  than  he  had  expected;  for  as  with  an 
earthquake,  with  a  rumbling  and  a  rocking  hither  and  thither, 
a  sprawling  of  legs  and  heaving  as  of  many  backs,  young 
Diamond  found  himself  hoisted  up  in  the  air,  with  both  hands 
twisted  in  the  horse's  mane.    The  next  instant  old  Diamond 

lashed  out  with  both  his  hind  legs,  and  giving  one  cry  of 

[29] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

terror  young  Diamond  found  himself  lying  on  his  neck,  with 
his  arms  as  far  round  it  as  they  would  go.  But  then  the 
horse  stood  as  still  as  a  stone,  except  that  he  lifted  his  head 
gently  up,  to  let  the  boy  slip  down  to  his  back.  For  when  he 
heard  young  Diamond's  cry  he  knew  that  there  was  nothing 
to  kick  about;  for  young  Diamond  was  a  good  boy,  and  old 
Diamond  was  a  good  horse,  and  the  one  was  all  right  on  the 
back  of  the  other. 

As  soon  as  Diamond  had  got  himself  comfortable  on  the 
saddle  place,  the  horse  began  pulling  at  the  hay,  and  the 
boy  began  thinking.  He  had  never  mounted  Diamond  him- 
self before,  and  he  had  never  got  off  him  without  being  lifted 
down.  So  he  sat,  while  the  horse  ate,  wondering  how  he  was 
to  reach  the  ground. 

But  while  he  meditated,  his  mother  woke,  and  her  first 
thought  was  to  see  her  boy.  She  had  visited  him  twice  dur- 
ing the  night,  and  found  him  sleeping  quietly.  Now  his  bed 
was  empty,  and  she  was  frightened. 

"Diamond!  Diamond!  Where  are  you,  Diamond?"  she 
called  out. 

Diamond  turned  his  head  where  he  sat  like  a  knight  on 
his  steed  in  enchanted  stall,  and  cried  aloud, — 

"Here,  mother!" 

"Where,  Diamond?"  she  returned. 

"Here,  mother,  on  Diamond's  back." 

She  came  running  to  the  ladder,  and  peeping  down,  saw 
him  aloft  on  the  great  horse. 

"Come  down,  Diamond,"  she  said. 

"I  can't,"  answered  Diamond. 

[30] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"How  did  you  get  up?"  asked  his  mother. 

"Quite  easily,"  answered  he;  "but  when  I  got  up,  Dia- 
mond would  get  up  too,  and  so  here  I  am." 

His  mother  thought  he  had  been  walking  in  his  sleep 
again,  and  hurried  down  the  ladder.  She  did  not  much  like 
going  up  to  the  horse,  for  she  had  not  been  used  to  horses; 
but  she  would  have  gone  into  a  lion's  den,  not  to  say  a  horse's 
stall,  to  help  her  boy.  So  she  went  and  lifted  him  off  Dia- 
mond's back,  and  felt  braver  all  her  life  after.  She  carried 
him  in  her  arms  up  to  her  room;  but,  afraid  of  frightening 
him  at  his  own  sleep-walking,  as  she  supposed  it,  said  nothing 
about  last  night.  Before  the  next  day  was  over,  Diamond  had 
almost  concluded  the  whole  adventure  a  dream. 

For  a  week  his  mother  watched  him  very  carefully — going 
into  the  loft  several  times  a  night, — as  often,  in  fact,  as  she 
woke.     Every  time  she  found  him  fast  asleep. 

All  that  week  it  was  hard  weather.  The  grass  showed 
white  in  the  morning  with  the  hoar-frost  which  clung  like 
tiny  comfits  to  every  blade.  And  as  Diamond's  shoes  were 
not  good,  and  his  mother  had  not  quite  saved  up  enough 
money  to  get  him  the  new  pair  she  so  much  wanted  for  him, 
she  would  not  let  him  run  out.  He  played  all  his  games  over 
and  over  indoors,  especially  that  of  driving  two  chairs  har- 
nessed to  the  baby's  cradle;  and  if  they  did  not  go  very  fast, 
they  went  as  fast  as  could  be  expected  of  the  best  chairs  in 
the  world,  although  one  of  them  had  only  three  legs,  and  the 
other  only  half  a  back. 

At  length  his  mother  brought  home  his  new  shoes,  and 
no  sooner  did  she  find  they  fitted  him  than  she  told   him 

[31] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

he  might  run  out  in  the  yard  and  amuse  himself  for  an 
hour. 

The  sun  was  going  down  when  he  flew  from  the  door  like 
a  bird  from  its  cage.  All  the  world  was  new  to  him.  A  great 
fire  of  sunset  burned  on  the  top  of  the  gate  that  led  from  the 
stables  to  the  house;  above  the  fire  in  the  sky  lay  a  large 
lake  of  green  light,  above  that  a  golden  cloud,  and  over  that 
the  blue  of  the  wintry  heavens.  And  Diamond  thought  that, 
next  to  his  own  home,  he  had  never  seen  any  place  he  would 
like  so  much  to  live  in  as  that  sky.  For  it  is  not  fine  things 
that  make  home  a  nice  place,  but  your  mother  and  your  father. 

As  he  was  yet  looking  at  the  lovely  colors,  the  gates 
were  thrown  open,  and  there  was  old  Diamond  and  his  friend 
in  the  carriage,  dancing  with  impatience  to  get  at  their  stalls 
and  their  oats.  And  in  they  came.  Diamond  was  not  in  the 
least  afraid  of  his  father  driving  over  him,  but,  careful  not 
to  spoil  the  grand  show  he  made  with  his  fine  horses  and  his 
multitudinous  cape,  with  a  red  edge  to  every  fold,  he  slipped 
out  of  the  way  and  let  him  dash  right  on  to  the  stables.  To 
be  quite  safe  he  had  to  step  into  the  recess  of  the  door  that 
led  from  the  yard  to  the  shrubbery. 

As  he  stood  there  he  remembered  how  the  wind  had  driven 
him  to  this  same  spot  on  the  night  of  his  dream.  And  once 
more  he  was  almost  sure  that  it  was  no  dream.  At  all  events, 
he  would  go  in  and  see  whether  things  looked  at  all  now  as 
they  did  then.  He  opened  the  door,  and  passed  through  the 
little  belt  of  shrubbery.  Not  a  flower  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  beds  on  the  lawn.  Even  the  brave  old  chrysanthemums 
and    Christmas    roses    had    passed    away    before    the    frost. 

[32] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

What?  Yes!  There  was  one!  He  ran  and  knelt  down  to  look 
at  it. 

It  was  a  primrose — a  dwarfish  thing,  but  perfect  in  shape 
— a  baby-wonder.  As  he  stooped  his  face  to  see  it  close,  a 
little  wind  began  to  blow,  and  two  or  three  long  leaves  that 
stood  up  behind  the  flower  shook  and  waved  and  quivered, 
but  the  primrose  lay  still  in  the  green  hollow,  looking  up  at 
the  sky,  and  not  seeming  to  know  that  the  wind  was  blowing 
at  all.  It  was  just  a  one  eye  that  the  dull  black  wintry  earth 
had  opened  to  look  at  the  sky  with.  All  at  once  Diamond 
thought  it  was  saying  its  prayers,  and  he  ought  not  to  be 
staring  at  it  so.  He  ran  to  the  stable  to  see  his  father  make 
Diamond's  bed.  Then  his  father  took  him  in  his  arms,  car- 
ried him  up  the  ladder,  and  set  him  down  at  the  table  where 
they  were  going  to  have  their  tea. 

"Miss  is  very  poorly,''  said  Diamond's  father;  "Mis'ess 
has  been  to  the  doctor  with  her  to-day,  and  she  looked  very 
glum  when  she  came  out  again.  I  was  a-watching  of  them 
to  see  what  doctor  had  said." 

"And  didn't  Miss  look  glum  too?"  asked  his  mother. 

"Not  half  as  glum  as  Mis'ess,"  returned  the  coachman. 
"You  see " 

But  he  lowered  his  voice,  and  Diamond  could  not  make 

out  more  than  a  word  here  and  there.    For  Diamond's  father 

was  not  only  one  of  the  finest  of  coachmen  to  look  at,  and 

one  of  the  best  of  drivers,  but  one  of  the  most  discreet  of 

servants  as  well.     Therefore  he  did  not  talk  about  family 

affairs  to  any  one  but  his  wife,  whom,  he  had  proved  better 

than  himself  long  ago,  and  was  careful  that  even  Diamond 

[33] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

should  hear  nothing  he  could  repeat  again  concerning  master 
and  his  family. 

It  was  bed-time  soon,  and  Diamond  went  to  bed  and  fell 
fast  asleep. 

He  awoke  all  at  once,  in  the  dark. 

"Open  the  window,  Diamond,"  said  a  voice. 

Now  Diamond's  mother  had  once  more  pasted  up  North 
Wind's  window. 

"Are  you  North  Wind?"  said  Diamond:  "I  don't  hear  you 
blowing." 

"No;  but  you  hear  me  talking.  Open  the  window,  for  I 
haven't  overmuch  time." 

"Yes,"  returned  Diamond.  "But,  please,  North  Wind, 
where's  the  use?    You  left  me  all  alone  last  time." 

He  had  got  up  on  his  knees,  and  was  busy  with  his  nails 
once  more  at  the  paper  over  the  hole  in  the  wall.  For  now 
that  North  Wind  spoke  again,  he  remembered  all  that  had 
taken  place  before  as  distinctly  as  if  it  had  happened  only 
last  night. 

"Yes,  but  that  was  your  fault,"  returned  North  Wind. 
"I  had  work  to  do;  and,  besides,  a  gentleman  should  never 
keep  a  lady  waiting." 

"But  I'm  not  a  gentleman,"  said  Diamond,  scratching 
away  at  the  paper. 

"I  hope  you  won't  say  so  ten  years  after  this." 

"I'm  going  to  be  a  coachman,  and  a  coachman  is  not  a 
gentleman,"  persisted  Diamond. 

"We  call  your  father  a  gentleman  in  our  house,"  said 
North  Wind. 

[34] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"He  doesn't  call  himself  one,"  said  Diamond. 

"That's  of  no  consequence:  every  man  ought  to  be  a 
gentleman,  and  your  father  is  one." 

Diamond  was  so  pleased  to  hear  this  that  he  scratched  at 
the  paper  like  ten  mice,  and  getting  hold  of  the  edge  of  it, 
tore  it  off.  The  next  instant  a  young  girl  glided  across  the 
bed,  and  stood  upon  the  floor. 

"Oh  dear!"  said  Diamond,  quite  dismayed;  "I  didn't 
know — who  are  you,  please?" 

"I'm  North  Wind." 

"Are  you  really?" 

"Yes.     Make  haste." 

"But  you're  no  bigger  than  me." 

"Do  you  think  I  care  about  how  big  or  how  little  I  am? 
Didn't  you  see  me  this  evening?    I  was  less  then." 

"No.     Where  was  you?" 

"Behind  the  leaves  of  the  primrose.  Didn't  you  see  them 
blowing?" 

"Yes." 

"Make  haste,  then,  if  you  want  to  go  with  me." 

"But  you  are  not  big  enough  to  take  care  of  me.  I  think 
you  are  only  Miss  North  Wind." 

"I  am  big  enough  to  show  you  the  way,  anyhow.  But  if 
you  won't  come,  why,  you  must  stay." 

"I  must  dress  myself.  I  didn't  mind  with  a  grown  lady, 
but  I  couldn't  go  with  a  little  girl  in  my  night-gown." 

"Very  well.     I'm  not  in  such  a  hurry  as  I  was  the  other 

night.     Dress  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  I'll  go  and  shake  the 

primrose  leaves  till  you  come." 

[85] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Don't  hurt  it,"  said  Diamond. 

North  Wind  broke  out  in  a  little  laugh  like  the  breaking 
of  silver  bubbles,  and  was  gone  in  a  moment.  Diamond  saw 
— for  it  was  a  starlit  night,  and  the  mass  of  hay  was  at  a  low 
ebb  now — the  gleam  of  something  vanishing  down  the  stair, 
and,  springing  out  of  bed,  dressed  himself  as  fast  as  ever  he 
could.  Then  he  crept  out  into  the  yard,  through  the  door  in 
the  wall,  and  away  to  the  primrose.  Behind  it  stood  North 
Wind,  leaning  over  it,  and  looking  at  the  flower  as  if  she  had 
been  its  mother. 

"Come  along,"  she  said,  jumping  up  and  holding  out 
her  hand. 

Diamond  took  her  hand.  It  was  cold,  but  so  pleasant 
and  full  of  life,  it  was  better  than  warm.  She  led  him  across 
the  garden.  With  one  bound  she  was  on  the  top  of  the  wall. 
Diamond  was  left  at  the  foot. 

"Stop,  stop!"  he  cried.    "Please,  I  can't  jump  like  that." 

"You  don't  try,"  said  North  Wind,  who  from  the  top 
looked  down  a  foot  taller  than  before. 

"Give  me  your  hand  again,  and  I  will  try,"  said  Diamond. 

She  reached  down,  Diamond  laid  hold  of  her  hand,  gave 
a  great  spring,  and  stood  beside  her. 

"This  is  nice!"  he  said. 

Another  bound,  and  they  stood  in  the  road  by  the  river. 
It  was  full  tide,  and  the  stars  were  shining  clear  in  its  depths, 
for  it  lay  still,  waiting  for  the  turn  to  run  down  again  to  the 
sea.  They  walked  along  its  side.  But  they  had  not  walked 
far  before  its  surface  was  covered  with  ripples,  and  the  stars 
had  vanished  from  its  bosom. 

[36] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  North  Wind  was  now  tall  as  a  full-grown  girl.  Her 
hair  was  flying  about  her  head,  and  the  wind  was  blowing 
a  breeze  down  the  river.  But  she  turned  aside  and  went  up 
a  narrow  lane,  and  as  she  went  her  hair  fell  down  around  her. 

"I  have  some  rather  disagreeable  work  to  do  to-night,'* 
she  said,  "before  I  get  out  to  sea,  and  I  must  set  about  it  at 
once.    The  disagreeable  work  must  be  looked  after  first." 

So  saying,  she  laid  hold  of  Diamond  and  began  to  run, 
gliding  along  faster  and  faster.  Diamond  kept  up  with  her  as 
well  as  he  could.  She  made  many  turnings  and  windings, 
apparently  because  it  was  not  quite  easy  to  get  him  over 
walls  and  houses.  Once  they  ran  through  a  hall  where  they 
found  back  and  front  doors  open.  At  the  foot  of  the  stair 
North  Wind  stood  still,  and  Diamond,  hearing  a  great  growl, 
started  in  terror,  and  there,  instead  of  North  Wind,  was  a 
huge  wolf  by  his  side.  He  let  go  his  hold  in  dismay,  and  the 
wolf  bounded  up  the  stair.  The  windows  of  the  house  rattled 
and  shook  as  if  guns  were  firing,  and  the  sound  of  a  great  fall 
came  from  above.  Diamond  stood  with  white  face  staring  up 
at  the  landing. 

"Surely,"  he  thought,  "North  Wind  can't  be  eating  one 
of  the  children!"  Coming  to  himself  all  at  once,  he  rushed 
after  her  with  his  little  fist  clenched.  There  were  ladies  in 
long  trains  going  up  and  down  the  stairs,  and  gentlemen  in 
white  neckties  attending  on  them,  who  stared  at  him,  but 
none  of  them  were  of  the  people  of  the  house,  and  they  said 
nothing.  Before  he  reached  the  head  of  the  stair,  however, 
North  Wind  met  him,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  hurried 
down  and  out  of  the  house. 

[37] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  hope  you  haven't  eaten  a  baby,  North  Wind!"  said 
Diamond,  very  solemnly. 

North  Wind  laughed  merrily,  and  went  tripping  on  faster. 
Her  grassy  robe  swept  and  swirled  about  her  steps,  and  where- 
ever  it  passed  over  withered  leaves,  they  went  fleeing  and 
whirling  in  spirals,  and  running  on  their  edges  like  wheels, 
all  about  her  feet. 

"No,"  she  said  at  last,  "I  did  not  eat  a  baby.  You  would 
not  have  had  to  ask  that  foolish  question  if  you  had  not  let 
go  your  hold  of  me.  You  would  have  seen  how  I  served  a 
nurse  that  was  calling  a  child  bad  names,  and  telling  her  she 
was  wicked.  She  had  been  drinking.  I  saw  an  ugly  gin 
bottle  in  a  cupboard." 

"And  you  frightened  her?"  said  Diamond. 

"I  believe  so!"  answered  North  Wind,  laughing  merrily. 
"I  flew  at  her  throat,  and  she  tumbled  over  on  the  floor  with 
such  a  crash  that  they  ran  in.  She'll  be  turned  away  to- 
morrow— and  quite  time,  if  they  knew  as  much  as  I  do," 

"But  didn't  you  frighten  the  little  one?" 

"She  never  saw  me.  The  woman  would  not  have  seen 
me  either  if  she  had  not  been  wicked." 

"Oh!"  said  Diamond,  dubiously. 

"Why  should  you  see  things,"  returned  North  Wind, 
"that  you  wouldn't  understand  or  know  what  to  do  with? 
Good  people  see  good  things;   bad  people,  bad  things." 

"Then  are  you  a  bad  thing?" 

"No.  For  you  see  me,  Diamond,  dear,"  said  the  girl,  and 
she  looked  down  at  him,  and  Diamond  saw  the  loving  eyes  of 
the  great  lady  beaming  from  the  depths  of  her  falling  hair. 

[38] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  had  to  make  myself  look  like  a  bad  thing  before  she 
jcould  see  me.  If  I  had  put  on  any  other  shape  than  a  wolf's 
she  would  not  have  seen  me,  for  that  is  what  is  growing  to  be 
her  own  shape  inside  of  her." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  Diamond,  "but  I 
suppose  it's  all  right." 

They  were  now  climbing  the  slope  of  a  grassy  ascent.  It 
was  Primrose  Hill,  in  fact,  although  Diamond  had  never 
heard  of  it.  The  moment  they  reached  the  top,  North  Wind 
stood  and  turned  her  face  towards  London.  The  stars  were 
still  shining  clear  and  cold  overhead.  There  was  not  a  cloud 
to  be  seen.  The  air  was  sharp,  but  Diamond  did  not  find  it 
cold. 

"Now,"  said  the  lady,  "whatever  you  do,  do  not  let  my 
hand  go.  I  might  have  lost  you  the  last  time,  only  I  was  not 
in  a  hurry  then:   now  I  am  in  a  hurry." 

Yet  she  stood  still  for  a  moment. 


(39  j 


CHAPTER  IV 
NORTH  WIND 

A  ND  as  she  stood  looking  towards  London,  Diamond  saw 
/-%   that  she  was  trembling. 
•*•   -^       "Are  you  cold,  North  Wind?"  he  asked. 

"No,  Diamond,"  she  answered,  looking  down  upon  him 
with  a  smile;  "I  am  only  getting  ready  to  sweep  one  of  my 
rooms.  Those  careless,  greedy,  untidy  children  make  it  in 
such  a  mess." 

As  she  spoke  he  could  have  told  by  her  voice,  if  he  had 
not  seen  with  his  eyes,  that  she  was  growing  larger  and  larger. 
Her  head  went  up  and  up  towards  the  stars ;  and  as  she  grew, 
still  trembling  through  all  her  body,  her  hair  also  grew — longer 
and  longer,  and  lifted  itself  from  her  head,  and  went  out  in 
black  waves.  The  next  moment,  however,  it  fell  back  around 
her,  and  she  grew  less  and  less  till  she  was  only  a  tall  woman. 
Then  she  put  her  hands  behind  her  head,  and  gathered  some 
of  her  hair,  and  began  weaving  and  knotting  it  together. 
When  she  had  done,  she  bent  down  her  beautiful  face  close 
to  his,  and  said — 

"Diamond,  I  am  afraid  you  would  not  keep  hold  of  me, 
and  if  I  were  to  drop  you,  I  don't  know  what  might  happen; 
so  I  have  been  making  a  place  for  you  in  my  hair.     Come." 

Diamond  held  out  his  arms,  for  with  that  grand  face  look- 
ing at  him,  he  believed  like  a  baby.  She  took  him  in  her 
hands,  threw  him  over  her  shoulder,  and  said,  "Get  in, 
Diamond." 

[401 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  Diamond  parted  her  hair  with  his  hands,  crept  be- 
tween, and  feeling  about  soon  found  the  woven  nest.  It  was 
just  like  a  pocket,  or  like  the  shawl  in  which  gipsy  women 
carry  their  children.  North  Wind  put  her  hands  to  her  back, 
felt  all  about  the  nest,  and  finding  it  safe,  said, — 

"Are  you  comfortable,  Diamond?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Diamond. 

The  next  moment  he  was  rising  in  the  air.  North  Wind 
grew  towering  up  to  the  place  of  the  clouds.  Her  hair  went 
streaming  out  from  her,  till  it  spread  like  a  mist  over  the 
stars.     She  flung  herself  abroad  in  space. 

Diamond  held  on  by  two  of  the  twisted  ropes  which, 
parted  and  interwoven,  formed  his  shelter,  for  he  could  not 
help  being  a  little  afraid.  As  soon  as  he  had  come  to  him- 
self, he  peeped  through  the  woven  meshes,  for  he  did  not  dare 
to  look  over  the  top  of  the  nest.  The  earth  was  rushing  past 
like  a  river  or  a  sea  below  him.  Trees,  and  water,  and  green 
grass  hurried  away  beneath.  A  great  roar  of  wild  animals 
rose  as  they  rushed  over  the  Zoological  Gardens,  mixed  with 
a  chattering  of  monkeys  and  a  screaming  of  birds;  but  it 
died  away  in  a  moment  behind  them.  And  now  there  was 
nothing  but  the  roofs  of  houses,  sweeping  along  like  a  great 
torrent  of  stones  and  rocks.  Chimney-pots  fell,  and  tiles  flew 
from  the  roofs;  but  it  looked  to  him  as  if  they  were  left  be- 
hind by  the  roofs  and  the  chimneys  as  they  scudded  away. 
There  was  a  great  roaring,  for  the  wind  was  dashing  against 
London  like  a  sea;  but  at  North  Wind's  back  Diamond,  of 
course,  felt  nothing  of  it  all.  He  was  in  a  perfect  calm.  He 
could  hear  the  sound  of  it,  that  was  all. 

[41] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

By  and  by  he  raised  himself  and  looked  over  the  edge  of 
his  nest.  There  were  the  houses  rushing  up  and  shooting 
away  below  him,  like  a  fierce  torrent  of  rocks  instead  of  water. 
Then  he  looked  up  to  the  sky,  but  could  see  no  stars;  they 
were  hidden  by  the  blinding  masses  of  the  lady's  hair  which 
swept  between.  He  began  to  wonder  whether  she  would  hear 
him  if  he  spoke.    He  would  try. 

"Please,  North  Wind,"  he  said,  "what  is  that  noise?" 

From  high  over  his  head  came  the  voice  of  North  Wind, 
answering  him  gently, — 

"The  noise  of  my  besom.  I  am  the  old  woman  that  sweeps 
the  cobwebs  from  the  sky;  only  I'm  busy  with  the  floor  now." 

"What  makes  the  houses  look  as  if  they  were  running 
awayr 

"I  am  sweeping  so  fast  over  them." 

"But,  please,  North  Wind,  I  knew  London  was  very  big, 
but  I  didn't  know  it  was  so  big  as  this.  It  seems  as  if  we 
should  never  get  away  from  it." 

"We  are  going  round  and  round,  else  we  should  have  left 
it  long  ago." 

"Is  this  the  way  you  sweep,  North  Wind?" 

"Yes;   I  go  round  and  round  with  my  great  besom." 

"Please,  would  you  mind  going  a  little  slower,  for  I  want 
to  see  the  streets?" 

"You  won't  see  much  now." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  have  nearly  swept  all  the  people  home." 

"Oh!  I  forgot,"  said  Diamond,  and  was  quiet  after  that, 
for  he  did  not  want  to  be  troublesome. 

[42] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

But  she  dropped  a  little  towards  the  roofs  of  the  houses, 
and  Diamond  could  see  down  into  the  streets.  There  were 
very  few  people  about,  though.  The  lamps  nickered  and 
flared  again,  but  nobody  seemed  to  want  them. 

Suddenly  Diamond  espied  a  little  girl  coming  along  a 
street.  She  was  dreadfully  blown  by  the  wind,  and  a  broom 
she  was  trailing  behind  her  was  very  troublesome.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  wind  had  a  spite  at  her — it  kept  worrying  her  like  a 
wild  beast,  and  tearing  at  her  rags.    She  was  so  lonely  there! 

"Oh!  please,  North  Wind,"  he  cried,  "won't  you  help 
that  little  girl?" 

"No,  Diamond;   I  mustn't  leave  my  work." 

"But  why  shouldn't  you  be  kind  to  her?" 

"I  am  kind  to  her:  I  am  sweeping  the  wicked  smells 
away." 

"But  you're  kinder  to  me,  dear  North  Wind.  Why 
shouldn't  you  be  as  kind  to  her  as  you  are  to  me?" 

"There  are  reasons,  Diamond.  Everybody  can't  be  done 
to  all  the  same.    Everybody  is  not  ready  for  the  same  thing." 

"But  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  kinder  used  than  she." 

"Do  you  think  nothing's  to  be  done  but  what  you  can 
see,  Diamond,  you  silly!  It's  all  right.  Of  course  you  can 
help  her  if  you  like.  You've  got  nothing  particular  to  do  at 
this  moment;   I  have." 

"Oh!  do  let  me  help  her,  then.  But  you  won't  be  able 
to  wait,  perhaps?" 

"No,  I  can't  wait;  you  must  do  it  yourself.  And,  mind, 
the  wind  will  get  a  hold  of  you  too," 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  help  her,  North  WTind?" 

[43] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Not  without  having  some  idea  what  will  happen.  If 
you  break  down  and  cry,  that  won't  be  much  of  a  help  to 
her,  and  it  will  make  a  goose  of  little  Diamond." 

"I  want  to  go,"  said  Diamond.  "Only  there's  just  one 
thing — how  am  I  to  get  home?" 

"If  you're  anxious  about  that,  perhaps  you  had  better  go 
with  me.    I  am  bound  to  take  you  home  again,  if  you  do." 

"There!"  cried  Diamond,  who  was  still  looking  after  the 
little  girl;  "I'm  sure  the  wind  will  blow  her  over,  and  per- 
haps kill  her.     Do  let  me  go." 

They  had  been  sweeping  more  slowly  along  the  line  of 
the  street.    There  was  a  lull  in  the  roaring. 

"Well,  though  I  cannot  promise  to  take  you  home,"  said 
North  Wind,  as  she  sank  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  tops  of  the 
houses,  "I  can  promise  you  it  will  be  all  right  in  the  end. 
You  will  get  home  somehow.  Have  you  made  up  your  mind 
what  to  do?" 

"Yes;   to  help  the  little  girl,"  said  Diamond  firmly. 

The  same  moment  North  Wind  dropt  into  the  street  and 
stood,  only  a  tall  lady,  but  with  her  hair  flying  up  over  the 
housetops.  She  put  her  hands  to  her  back,  took  Diamond, 
and  set  him  down  in  the  street.  The  same  moment  he  was 
caught  in  the  fierce  coils  of  the  blast,  and  all  but  blown  away. 
North  Wind  stepped  back  a  pace,  and  at  once  towered  in 
stature  to  the  height  of  the  houses.  A  chimney-pot  clashed 
at  Diamond's  feet.  He  turned  in  terror,  but  it  was  to  look 
for  the  little  girl,  and  when  he  turned  again  the  lady  had 
vanished,  and  the  wind  was  roaring  along  the  street  as  if  it 
had  been  the  bed  of  an  invisible  torrent.    The  little  girl  was 

[44] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

scudding  before  the  blast,  her  hair  flying  too,  and  behind  her 
she  dragged  her  broom.  Her  little  legs  were  going  as  fast  as 
ever  they  could  to  keep  her  from  falling.  Diamond  crept  into 
the  shelter  of  a  doorway,  thinking  to  stop  her;  but  she  passed 
him  like  a  bird,  crying  gently  and  pitifully. 

"Stop!  stop!  little  girl,"  shouted  Diamond,  starting  in 
pursuit. 

"I  can't,"  wailed  the  girl;  "the  wind  won't  leave  go  of 
me. 

Diamond  could  run  faster  than  she,  and  he  had  no  broom. 
In  a  few  moments  he  had  caught  her  by  the  frock.  But  it 
tore  in  his  hand,  and  away  went  the  little  girl.  So  he  had 
to  run  again,  and  this  time  he  ran  so  fast  that  he  got  before 
her,  and  turning  x>und  caught  her  in  his  arms,  when  down 
they  went  both  together,  which  made  the  little  girl  laugh  in 
the  midst  of  her  crying. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Diamond,  rubbing  the 
elbow  that  had  stuck  farthest  out.  The  arm  it  belonged  to 
was  twined  round  a  lamp-post  as  he  stood  between  the  little 
girl  and  the  wind. 

"Home,"  she  said,  gasping  for  breath. 

"Then  I  will  go  with  you,"  said  Diamond. 

And  then  they  were  silent  for  a  while,  for  the  wind  blew 
worse  than  ever,  and  they  had  both  to  hold  on  to  the  lamp- 
post. 

"Where  is  your  crossing?"  asked  the  girl  at  length. 

"I  don't  sweep,"  answered  Diamond. 

"What  do  you  do,  then?"  asked  she.  "You  ain't  big 
enough  for  most  things." 

[45] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  don't  know  what  I  do  do,"  answered  he,  feeling  rather 
ashamed.  "Nothing,  I  suppose.  My  father's  Mr.  Coleman's 
coachman." 

"Have  you  a  father?"  she  said,  staring  at  him  as  if  a  boy 
with  a  father  was  a  natural  curiosity. 

"Yes.     Haven't  you?"  returned  Diamond. 

"No;   nor  mother  neither.    Old  Sal's  all  I've  got." 

And  she  began  to  cry  again. 

"I  wouldn't  go  to  her  if  she  wasn't  good  to  me,"  said 
Diamond. 

"But  you  must  go  somewheres." 

"Move  on,"  said  the  voice  of  a  policeman  behind  them. 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  the  girl.  "You  must  go  somewheres. 
They're  always  at  it." 

"But  old  Sal  doesn't  beat  you,  does  she?" 

"I  wish  she  would." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Diamond,  quite  bewildered. 

"She  would  if  she  was  my  mother.  But  she  wouldn't  lie 
abed  a-cuddlin'  of  her  ugly  old  bones,  and  laugh  to  hear  me 
crying  at  the  door." 

"You  don't  mean  she  won't  let  you  in  to-night?" 

"It'll  be  a  good  chance  if  she  does." 

"Why  are  you  out  so  late,  then?"  asked  Diamond. 

"  My  crossing's  a  long  way  off  at  the  West  End,  and  I  had 
been  indulgin'  in  door-steps  and  mewses." 

"  We'd  better  have  a  try  anyhow,"  said  Diamond.  "  Come 
along." 

As  he  spoke  Diamond  thought  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
North  Wind  turning  a  corner  in  front  of  them;    and  when 

[46] 


"  Now  you  lead  me,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand, 
"  and  I'll  take  care  of  you." 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

they  turned  the  corner  too,  they  found  it  quite  quiet  there, 
but  he  saw  nothing  of  the  lady. 

"Now  you  lead  me,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "and  I'll 
take  care  of  you." 

The  girl  withdrew  her  hand,  but  only  to  dry  her  eyes  with 
her  frock,  for  the  other  had  enough  to  do  with  her  broom. 
She  put  it  in  his  again,  and  led  him,  turning  after  turning, 
until  they  stopped  at  a  cellar-door  in  a  very  dirty  lane.  There 
she  knocked. 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  live  here,"  said  Diamond. 

"Oh  yes,  you  would,  if  you  had  nowheres  else  to  go  to," 
answered  the  girl.     "I  only  wish  we  may  get  in." 

"I  don't  want  to  go  in,"  said  Diamond. 

"Where  do  you  mean  to  go,  then?" 

"Home  to  my  home." 

"Where's  that?" 

"I  don't  exactly  know." 

"Then  you're  worse  off  than  I  am." 

"Oh  no,  for  North  Wind — "  began  Diamond,  and  stopped, 
he  hardly  knew  why. 

"What?"  said  the  girl,  as  she  held  her  ear  to  the  door 
listening. 

But  Diamond  did  not  reply.     Neither  did  old  Sal. 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  the  girl.  "She  is  wide  awake  heark- 
ening.    But  we  don't  get  in." 

"What  will  you  do,  then?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Move  on,"  she  answered. 

"Where?" 

"Oh,  anywheres.    Bless  you,  I'm  used  to  it." 

[47] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Hadn't  you  better  come  hoine  with  me,  then?" 

"That's  a  good  joke,  when  you  don't  know  where  it  is. 
Come  on." 

"But  where?" 

"Oh,  nowheres  in  particular.     Come  on." 

Diamond  obeyed.  The  wind  had  now  fallen  considerably. 
They  wandered  on  and  on,  turning  in  this  direction  and  that, 
without  any  reason  for  one  way  more  than  another,  until 
they  had  got  out  of  the  thick  of  the  houses  into  a  waste  kind 
of  place.  By  this  time  they  were  both  very  tired.  Diamond 
felt  a  good  deal  inclined  to  cry,  and  thought  he  had  been  very 
silly  to  get  down  from  the  back  of  the  North  Wind;  not  that 
he  would  have  minded  it  if  he  had  done  the  girl  any  good; 
but  he  thought  he  had  been  of  no  use  to  her.  He  was  mis- 
taken there,  for  she  was  far  happier  for  having  Diamond  with 
her  than  if  she  had  been  wandering  about  alone.  She  did 
not  seem  so  tired  as  he  was. 

"Do  let  us  rest  a  bit,"  said  Diamond. 

"Let's  see,"  she  answered.  "There's  something  like  a  rail- 
way there.     Perhaps  there's  an  open  arch." 

They  went  towards  it  and  found  one,  and,  better  still, 
there  was  an  empty  barrel  lying  under  the  arch. 

"Hillo!  here  we  are!"  said  the  girl.  "A  barrel's  the  jolliest 
bed  going — on  the  tramp,  I  mean.  We'll  have  forty  winks, 
and  then  go  on  again." 

She  crept  in,  and  Diamond  crept  in  beside  her.  They  put 
their  arms  round  each  other,  and  when  he  began  to  grow 
warm,  Diamond's  courage  began  to  come  back. 

"This  is  jolly!"  he  said.     "I'm  so  glad!" 

[48] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  don't  think  so  much  of  it,"  said  the  girl.  "I'm  used  to 
it,  I  suppose.  But  I  can't  think  how  a  kid  like  you  comes 
to  be  out  all  alone  this  time  o'  the  night." 

She  called  him  a  kid,  but  she  was  not  really  a  month 
older  than  he  was;  only  she  had  had  to  work  for  her  bread, 
and  that  so  soon  makes  people  older. 

"But  I  shouldn't  have  been  out  so  late  if  I  hadn't  got 
down  to  help  you,"  said  Diamond.  "North  Wind  is  gone 
home  long  ago." 

"I  think  you  must  ha'  got  out  o'  one  o'  them  Hidget 
Asylms,"  said  the  girl.  "You  said  something  about  the  north 
wind  afore  that  I  couldn't  get  the  rights  of." 

So  now,  for  the  sake  of  his  character,  Diamond  had  to 
tell  her  the  whole  story. 

She  did  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  She  said  she  wasn't  such 
a  flat  as  to  believe  all  that  bosh.  But  as  she  spoke  there  came 
a  great  blast  of  wind  through  the  arch,  and  set  the  barrel 
rolling.  So  they  made  haste  to  get  out  of  it,  for  they  had  no 
notion  of  being  rolled  over  and  over  as  if  they  had  been  packed 
tight  and  wouldn't  hurt,  like  a  barrel  of  herrings. 

"I  thought  we  should  have  had  a  sleep,"  said  Diamond; 
"but  I  can't  say  I'm  very  sleepy  after  all.  Come,  let's  go 
on  again." 

They  wandered  on  and  on,  sometimes  sitting  on  a  door- 
step, but  always  turning  into  lanes  or  fields  when  they  had 
a  chance. 

They  found  themselves  at  last  on  a  rising  ground  that 
sloped  rather  steeply  on  the  other  side.  It  was  a  waste  kind 
of  spot  below,  bounded  by  an  irregular  wall,  with  a  few  doors 

[49] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

in  it.  Outside  lay  broken  things  in  general,  from  garden  rollers 
to  flower-pots  and  wine-bottles.  But  the  moment  they  reached 
the  brow  of  the  rising  ground,  a  gust  of  wind  seized  them  and 
blew  them  down  hill  as  fast  as  they  could  run.  Nor  could 
Diamond  stop  before  he  went  bang  against  one  of  the  doors  in 
the  wall.  To  his  dismay  it  burst  open.  When  they  came  to 
themselves  they  peeped  in.     It  was  the  back  door  of  a  garden. 

"Ah,  ah!"  cried  Diamond,  after  staring  for  a  few  moments, 
"I  thought  so!  North  Wind  takes  nobody  in!  Here  I  am  in 
master's  garden!  I  tell  you  what,  little  girl,  you  just  bore  a 
hole  in  old  Sal's  wall,  and  put  your  mouth  to  it,  and  say, 
'Please,  North  Wind,  mayn't  I  go  out  with  you?'  and  then 
you'll  see  what'll  come." 

"I  daresay  I  shall.  But  I'm  out  in  the  wind  too  often 
already  to  want  more  of  it." 

"I  said  with  the  North  Wind,  not  in  it." 

"It's  all  one." 

"It's  not  all  one." 

"It  is  all  one." 

"But  I  know  best." 

"And  I  know  better.    I'll  box  your  ears,"  said  the  girl. 

Diamond  got  very  angry.  But  he  remembered  that  even 
if  she  did  box  his  ears,  he  mustn't  box  hers  again,  for  she 
was  a  girl,  and  all  that  boys  must  do,  if  girls  are  rude,  is  to 
go  away  and  leave  them.    So  he  went  in  at  the  door. 

"Good-bye,  mister,"  said  the  girl. 

This  brought  Diamond  to  his  senses. 

"I'm  sorry  I  was  cross,"  he  said.  "Come  in,  and  my 
mother  will  give  you  some  breakfast." 

[50] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No,  thank  you.  I  must  be  off  to  my  crossing.  It's 
morning  now." 

"I'm  very  sorry  for  you,"  said  Diamond. 

"Well,  it  is  a  life  to  be  tired  of — what  with  old  Sal,  and 
so  many  holes  in  my  shoes." 

"I  wonder  you're  so  good.    I  should  kill  myself." 

"Oh  no,  you  wouldn't!  When  I  think  of  it,  I  always 
want  to  see  what's  coming  next,  and  so  I  always  wait  till 
next  is  over.  Well!  I  suppose  there's  somebody  happy  some- 
wheres.  But  it  ain't  in  them  carriages.  Oh  my!  how  they 
do  look  sometimes — fit  to  bite  your  head  off!    Good-bye!" 

She  ran  up  the  hill  and  disappeared  behind  it.  Then  Dia- 
mond shut  the  door  as  he  best  could,  and  ran  through  the 
kitchen-garden  to  the  stable.  And  wasn't  he  glad  to  get  into 
his  own  blessed  bed  again! 


[51] 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  SUMMER-HOUSE 

DIAMOND  said  nothing  to  his  mother  about  his  ad- 
ventures. He  had  half  a  notion  that  North  Wind 
was  a  friend  of  his  mother,  and  that,  if  she  did  not 
know  all  about  it,  at  least  she  did  not  mind  his  going  any- 
where with  the  lady  of  the  wind.  At  the  same  time  he  doubted 
whether  he  might  not  appear  to  be  telling  stories  if  he  told  all, 
especially  as  he  could  hardly  believe  it  himself  when  he  thought 
about  it  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  although  when  the  twilight 
was  once  half-way  on  to  night  he  had  no  doubt  about  it,  at 
least  for  the  first  few  days  after  he  had  been  with  her.  The 
girl  that  swept  the  crossing  had  certainly  refused  to  believe 
him.  Besides,  he  felt  sure  that  North  Wind  would  tell  him 
if  he  ought  to  speak. 

It  was  some  time  before  he  saw  the  lady  of  the  wind 
again.  Indeed  nothing  remarkable  took  place  in  Diamond's 
history  until  the  following  week.  This  was  what  happened 
then.  Diamond  the  horse  wanted  new  shoes,  and  Diamond's 
father  took  him  out  of  the  stable,  and  was  just  getting  on  his 
back  to  ride  him  to  the  forge,  when  he  saw  his  little  boy 
standing  by  the  pump,  and  looking  at  him  wistfully.  Then 
the  coachman  took  his  foot  out  of  the  stirrup,  left  his  hold 
of  the  mane  and  bridle,  came  across  to  his  boy,  lifted  him 
up,  and  setting  him  on  the  horse's  back,  told  him  to  sit  up 
like  a  man.    He  then  led  away  both  Diamonds  together. 

[52] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  boy  atop  felt  not  a  little  tremulous  as  the  great 
muscles  that  lifted  the  legs  of  the  horse  knotted  and  relaxed 
against  his  legs,  and  he  cowered  towards  the  withers,  grasping 
with  his  hands  the  bit  of  mane  worn  short  by  the  collar;  but 
when  his  father  looked  back  at  him,  saying  once  more,  "Sit 
up,  Diamond,"  he  let  the  mane  go  and  sat  up,  notwithstand- 
ing that  the  horse,  thinking,  I  suppose,  that  his  master  had 
said  to  him,  "Come  up,  Diamond,"  stepped  out  faster.  For 
both  the  Diamonds  were  just  grandly  obedient.  And  Dia- 
mond soon  found  that,  as  he  was  obedient  to  his  father,  so 
the  horse  was  obedient  to  him.  For  he  had  not  ridden  far 
before  he  found  courage  to  reach  forward  and  catch  hold  of 
the  bridle,  and  when  his  father,  whose  hand  was  upon  it,  felt 
the  boy  pull  it  towards  him,  he  looked  up  and  smiled,  and, 
well  pleased,  let  go  his  hold,  and  left  Diamond  to  guide  Dia- 
mond; and  the  boy  soon  found  that  he  could  do  so  perfectly. 
It  was  a  grand  thing  to  be  able  to  guide  a  great  beast  like 
that.  And  another  discovery  he  made  was  that,  in  order  to 
guide  the  horse,  he  had  in  a  measure  to  obey  the  horse  first. 
If  he  did  not  yield  his  body  to  the  motions  of  the  horse's 
body,  he  could  not  guide  him;   he  must  fall  off. 

The  blacksmith  lived  at  some  distance,  deeper  into  Lon- 
don. As  they  crossed  the  angle  of  a  square,  Diamond,  who 
was  now  quite  comfortable  on  his  living  throne,  was  glancing 
this  way  and  that  in  a  gentle  pride,  when  he  saw  a  girl  sweep- 
ing a  crossing  scuddingly  before  a  lady.  The  lady  was  his 
father's  mistress,  Mrs.  Coleman,  and  the  little  girl  was  she 
for  whose  sake  he  had  got  off  North  Wind's  back.  He  drew 
Diamond's  bridle  in  eager  anxiety  to  see  whether  her  out- 

[53] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

stretched  hand  would  gather  a  penny  from  Mrs.  Coleman. 
But  she  had  given  one  at  the  last  crossing,  and  the  hand  re- 
turned only  to  grasp  its  broom.  Diamond  could  not  bear  it. 
He  had  a  penny  in  his  pocket,  the  gift  of  the  same  lady  the 
day  before,  and  he  tumbled  off  his  horse  to  give  it  to  the  girl. 
He  tumbled  off,  I  say,  for  he  did  tumble  when  he  reached  the 
ground.  But  he  got  up  in  an  instant,  and  ran,  searching  his 
pocket  as  he  ran.  She  made  him  a  pretty  courtesy  when  he 
offered  his  treasure,  but  with  a  bewildered  stare.  She  thought 
first:  "Then  he  was  on  the  back  of  the  North  Wind  after 
all!"  but,  looking  up  at  the  sound  of  the  horse's  feet  on  the 
paved  crossing,  she  changed  her  idea,  saying  to  herself,  "North 
Wind  is  his  father's  horse!  That's  the  secret  of  it!  Why 
couldn't  he  say  so?"  And  she  had  a  mind  to  refuse  the  penny. 
But  his  smile  put  it  all  right,  and  she  not  only  took  his  penny 
but  put  it  in  her  mouth  with  a  "Thank  you,  mister.  Did 
they  wollop  you  then?" 

"Oh  no!"  answered  Diamond.    "They  never  wollops  me." 

"Lor!"  said  the  little  girl,  and  was  speechless. 

Meantime  his  father,  looking  up,  and  seeing  the  horse's 
back  bare,  suffered  a  pang  of  awful  dread,  but  the  next  moment 
catching  sight  of  him,  took  him  up  and  put  him  on,  saying — 

"Don't  get  off  again,  Diamond.  The  horse  might  have 
put  his  foot  on  you." 

"No,  father,"  answered  the  boy,  and  rode  on  in  majestic 
safety. 

The  summer  drew  near,  warm  and  splendid.  Miss  Cole- 
man was  a  little  better  in  health,  and  sat  a  good  deal  in  the 
garden.     One  day  she  saw  Diamond  peeping  through  the 

[54] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

shrubbery,  and  called  him.  He  talked  to  her  so  frankly  that 
she  often  sent  for  him  after  that,  and  by  degrees  it  came 
about  that  he  had  leave  to  run  in  the  garden  as  he  pleased. 
He  never  touched  any  of  the  flowers  or  blossoms,  for  he  was 
not  like  some  boys  who  cannot  enjoy  a  thing  without  pulling 
it  to  pieces,  and  so  preventing  every  one  from  enjoying  it 
after  them, 

A  week  even  makes  such  a  long  time  in  a  child's  life,  that 
Diamond  had  begun  once  more  to  feel  as  if  North  Wind  were 
a  dream  of  some  far-off  year. 

One  hot  evening,  he  had  been  sitting  with  the  young  mis- 
tress, as  they  called  her,  in  a  little  summer-house  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  lawn — a  wonderful  thing  for  beauty,  the  boy 
thought,  for  a  little  window  in  the  side  of  it  was  made  of 
colored  glass.  It  grew  dusky,  and  the  lady  began  to  feel 
chill,  and  went  in,  leaving  the  boy  in  the  summer-house.  He 
sat  there  gazing  out  at  a  bed  of  tulips,  which,  although  they 
had  closed  for  the  night,  could  not  go  quite  asleep  for  the 
wind  that  kept  waving  them  about.  All  at  once  he  saw  a 
great  bumble-bee  fly  out  of  one  of  the  tulips. 

"There!  that  is  something  done,"  said  a  voice — a  gentle, 
merry,  childish  voice,  but  so  tiny.  "At  last  it  was.  I  thought 
he  would  have  had  to  stay  there  all  night,  poor  fellow!    I  did." 

Diamond  could  not  tell  whether  the  voice  was  near  or  far 
away,  it  was  so  small  and  yet  so  clear.  He  had  never  seen  a 
fairy,  but  he  had  heard  of  such,  and  he  began  to  look  all  about 
for  one.  And  there  was  the  tiniest  creature  sliding  down  the 
stem  of  the  tulip! 

"Are  you  the  fairy  that  herds  the  bees?"  he  asked,  going 

[55] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

out  of  the  summer-house,  and  down  on  his  knees  on  the  green 
shore  of  the  tulip-bed. 

"I'm  not  a  fairy,"  answered  the  little  creature. 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"It  would  become  you  better  to  ask  how  you  are  to  know 
it." 

"You've  just  told  me." 

"Yes.  But  what's  the  use  of  knowing  a  thing  only  because 
you're  told  it?" 

"  Well,  how  am  I  to  know  you  are  not  a  fairy?  You  do  look 
very  like  one." 

"In  the  first  place,  fairies  are  much  bigger  than  you  see 
me. 

"Oh!"  said  Diamond  reflectively;  "I  thought  they  were 
very  little." 

"But  they  might  be  tremendously  bigger  than  I  am,  and  yet 
not  very  big.  Why,  I  could  be  six  times  the  size  I  am,  and  not 
be  very  huge.  Besides,  a  fairy  can't  grow  big  and  little  at  will, 
though  the  nursery -tales  do  say  so:  they  don't  know  better. 
You  stupid  Diamond!  have  you  never  seen  me  before?" 

And,  as  she  spoke,  a  moan  of  wind  bent  the  tulips  almost  to 
the  ground,  and  the  creature  laid  her  hand  on  Diamond's 
shoulder.    In  a  moment  he  knew  that  it  was  North  Wind. 

"I  am  very  stupid,"  he  said;  "but  I  never  saw  you  so  small 
before,  not  even  when  you  were  nursing  the  primrose." 

"Must  you  see  me  every  size  that  can  be  measured  before 
you  know  me,  Diamond?" 

"But  how  could  I  think  it  was  you  taking  care  of  a  great 
stupid  bumble-bee?" 

[56] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"The  more  stupid  he  was  the  more  need  he  had  to  be  taken 
care  of.  What  with  sucking  honey  and  trying  to  open  the 
door,  he  was  nearly  dazed ;  and  when  it  opened  in  the  morning 
to  let  the  sun  see  the  tulip's  heart,  what  would  the  sun  have 
thought  to  find  such  a  stupid  thing  lying  there — with  wings 
too?" 

"But  how  do  you  have  time  to  look  after  bees?" 

"I  don't  look  after  bees.  I  had  this  one  to  look  after.  It 
was  hard  work,  though." 

"Hard  work!  Why,  you  could  blow  a  chimney  down,  or — 
or — a  boy's  cap  off,"  said  Diamond. 

"Both  are  easier  than  blow  a  tulip  open.  But  I  scarcely 
know  the  difference  between  hard  and  easy.  I  am  always  able 
for  what  I  have  to  do.  When  I  see  my  work,  I  just  rush  at  it 
— and  it  is  done.  But  I  mustn't  chatter.  I  have  got  to  sink 
a  ship  to-night." 

"Sink  a  ship!    What!  with  men  in  it?" 

"Yes,  and  women  too." 

"How  dreadful!    I  wish  you  wouldn't  talk  so." 

"It  is  rather  dreadful.    But  it  is  my  work.    I  must  do  it." 

"I  hope  you  won't  ask  me  to  go  with  you." 

"No,  I  won't  ask  you.    But  you  must  come  for  all  that." 

"I  won't,  then." 

"Won't  you?" 

And  North  Wind  grew  a  tall  lady,  and  looked  him  in  the 
eyes,  and  Diamond  said — 

"Please  take  me.    You  cannot  be  cruel." 

"No;  I  could  not  be  cruel  if  I  would.  I  can  do  nothing 
cruel,  although  I  often  do  what  looks  like  cruel  to  those  who 

[57] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

do  not  know  what  I  really  am  doing.  The  people  they  say  I 
drown,  I  only  carry  away  to — to — to — well,  the  back  of  the 
North  Wind — that  is  what  they  used  to  call  it  long  ago,  only  I 
never  saw  the  place." 

"How  can  you  carry  them  there  if  you  never  saw  it?" 

"I  know  the  way." 

"But  how  is  it  you  never  saw  it?" 

"Because  it  is  behind  me." 

"But  you  can  look  round." 

"Not  far  enough  to  see  my  own  back.  No;  I  always  look 
before  me.  In  fact,  I  grow  quite  blind  and  deaf  when  I  try  to 
see  my  back.    I  only  mind  my  work." 

"But  how  does  it  be  your  work?" 

"Ah,  that  I  can't  tell  you.  I  only  know  it  is,  because  when 
I  do  it  I  feel  all  right,  and  when  I  don't  I  feel  all  wrong.  East 
Wind  says — only  one  does  not  exactly  know  how  much  to  be- 
lieve of  what  she  says,  for  she  is  very  naughty  sometimes — she 
says  it  is  all  managed  by  a  baby;  but  whether  she  is  good  or 
naughty  when  she  says  that,  I  don't  know.  I  just  stick  to  my 
work.  It  is  all  one  to  me  to  let  a  bee  out  of  a  tulip,  or  to  sweep 
the  cobwebs  from  the  sky.  You  would  like  to  go  with  me  to- 
night?" 

"I  don't  want  to  see  a  ship  sunk." 

"But  suppose  I  had  to  take  you?" 

"Why,  then,  of  course  I  must  go." 

"There's  a  good  Diamond. — I  think  I  had  better  be  grow- 
ing a  bit.  Only  you  must  go  to  bed  first.  I  can't  take  you 
till  you're  in  bed.  That's  the  law  about  the  children.  So  I 
had  better  go  and  do  something  else  first." 

[58] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Very  well,  North  Wind,"  said  Diamond.  "What  are  you 
going  to  do  first,  if  you  please?" 

"I  think  I  may  tell  you.  Jump  up  on  the  top  of  the  wall, 
there." 

"I  can't." 

"Ah!  and  I  can't  help  you — you  haven't  been  to  bed  yet, 
you  see.  Come  out  to  the  road  with  me,  just  in  front  of  the 
coach-house,  and  I  will  show  you." 

North  Wind  grew  very  small  indeed,  so  small  that  she  could 
not  have  blown  the  dust  off  a  dusty  miller,  as  the  Scotch  chil- 
dren call  a  yellow  auricula.  Diamond  could  not  even  see  the 
blades  of  grass  move  as  she  flitted  along  by  his  foot.  They  left 
the  lawn,  went  out  by  the  wicket  in  the  coach-house  gates,  and 
then  crossed  the  road  to  the  low  wall  that  separated  it  from  the 
river. 

"You  can  get  up  on  this  wall,  Diamond,"  said  North  Wind. 

"Yes;  but  my  mother  has  forbidden  me." 

"Then  don't,"  said  North  Wind. 

"But  I  can  see  over,"  said  Diamond. 

"Ah!  to  be  sure.    I  can't." 

So  saying,  North  Wind  gave  a  little  bound,  and  stood  on 
the  top  of  the  wall.  She  was  just  about  the  height  a  dragon- 
fly would  be,  if  it  stood  on  end. 

"You  darling!"  said  Diamond,  seeing  what  a  lovely  little 
toy- worn  an  she  was. 

"Don't  be  impertinent,  Master  Diamond,"  said  North 
Wind.  "If  there's  one  thing  makes  me  more  angry  than  an- 
other, it  is  the  way  you  humans  judge  things  by  their  size.  I 
am  quite  as  respectable  now  as  I  shall  be  six  hours  after  this, 

[59] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

when  I  take  an  East  Indiaman  by  the  royals,  twist  her  round, 
and  push  her  under.  You  have  no  right  to  address  me  in  such 
a  fashion." 

But  as  she  spoke,  the  tiny  face  wore  the  smile  of  a  great 
grand  woman.  She  was  only  having  her  own  beautiful  fun 
out  of  Diamond,  and  true  woman's  fun  never  hurts. 

"But  look  there!"  she  resumed.  "Do  you  see  a  boat  with 
one  man  in  it — a  green  and  white  boat?" 

"Yes;   quite  well." 

"That's  a  poet." 

"I  thought  you  said  it  was  a  bo-at." 

"Stupid  pet!    Don't  you  know  what  a  poet  is?" 

"Why,  a  thing  to  sail  on  the  water  in." 

"Well,  perhaps  you're  not  so  far  wrong.  Some  poets  do 
carry  people  over  the  sea.  But  I  have  no  business  to  talk  so 
much.   The  man  is  a  poet." 

"The  boat  is  a  boat,"  said  Diamond. 

"Can't  you  spell?"  asked  North  Wind. 

"Not  very  well." 

"So  I  see.  A  poet  is  not  a  bo-at,  as  you  call  it.  A  poet  is 
a  man  who  is  glad  of  something,  and  tries  to  make  other  people 
glad  of  it  too." 

"Ah!  now  I  know.    Like  the  man  in  the  sweety-shop." 

"  Not  very.  But  I  see  it  is  no  use.  I  wasn't  sent  to  tell  you, 
and  so  I  can't  tell  you.  I  must  be  off.  Only  first  just  look  at 
the  man." 

"He's  not  much  of  a  rower,"  said  Diamond — "paddling 
first  with  one  fin  and  then  with  the  other." 

"Now  look  here!"  said  North  Wind. 

[60] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  she  flashed  like  a  dragon-fly  across  the  water,  whose 
surface  rippled  and  puckered  as  she  passed.  The  next  moment 
the  man  in  the  boat  glanced  about  him,  and  bent  to  his  oars. 
The  boat  flew  over  the  rippling  water.  Man  and  boat  and  river 
were  awake.  The  same  instant  almost,  North  Wind  perched 
again  upon  the  river  wall. 

"How  did  you  do  that?"  asked  Diamond. 

"I  blew  in  his  face,"  answered  North  Wind. 

"I  don't  see  how  that  could  do  it,"  said  Diamond. 

"I  daresay  not.  And  therefore  you  will  say  you  don't 
believe  it  could." 

"No,  no,  dear  North  Wind.  I  know  you  too  well  not  to 
believe  you." 

"Well,  I  blew  in  his  face,  and  that  woke  him  up." 

"But  what  was  the  good  of  it?" 

"Why!  don't  you  see?  Look  at  him — how  he  is  pulling. 
I  blew  the  mist  out  of  him." 

"How  was  that?" 

"That  is  just  what  I  cannot  tell  you." 

"But  you  did  it." 

"Yes.  I  have  to  do  ten  thousand  things  without  being  able 
to  tell  how." 

"I  don't  like  that,"  said  Diamond. 

He  was  staring  after  the  boat.  Hearing  no  answer,  he 
looked  down  to  the  wall. 

North  Wind  was  gone.  Away  across  the  river  went  a  long 
ripple — what  sailors  call  a  cat's  paw.  The  man  in  the  boat  was 
putting  up  a  sail.  The  moon  was  coming  to  herself  on  the  edge 
of  a  great  cloud,  and  the  sail  began  to  shine  white.    Diamond 

[61] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

rubbed  his  eyes,  and  wondered  what  it  was  all  about.  Things 
seemed  going  on  around  him,  and  all  to  understand  each 
other;  but  he  could  make  nothing  of  it.  So  he  put  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  went  in  to  have  his  tea.  The  night  was  very 
hot,  for  the  wind  had  fallen  again. 

"You  don't  seem  very  well  to-night,  Diamond,"  said  his 
mother. 

"I  am  quite  well,  mother,"  returned  Diamond,  who  was 
only  puzzled. 

"I  think  you  had  better  go  to  bed,"  she  added. 

"Very  well,  mother,"  he  answered. 

He  stopped  for  one  moment  to  look  out  of  the  window. 
Above  the  moon  the  clouds  were  going  different  ways.  Some- 
how or  other  this  troubled  him,  but,  notwithstanding,  he  was 
soon  fast  asleep. 

He  woke  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  the  darkness.  A 
terrible  noise  was  rumbling  overhead,  like  the  rolling  beat  of 
great  drums  echoing  through  a  brazen  vault.  The  roof  of  the 
loft  in  which  he  lay  had  no  ceiling;  only  the  tiles  were  between 
him  and  the  sky.  For  a  while  he  could  not  come  quite  awake, 
for  the  noise  kept  beating  him  down,  so  that  his  heart  was 
troubled  and  fluttered  painfully.  A  second  peal  of  thunder 
burst  over  his  head,  and  almost  choked  him  with  fear.  Nor  did 
he  recover  until  the  great  blast  that  followed,  having  torn  some 
tiles  off  the  roof,  sent  a  spout  of  wind  down  into  his  bed  and 
over  his  face,  which  brought  him  wide  awake,  and  gave  him 
back  his  courage.  The  same  moment  he  heard  a  mighty  yet 
musical  voice  calling  him. 

[62] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

*' Come  up,  Diamond,"  it  said.  "It's  all  ready.  I'm  waiting 
for  you." 

He  looked  out  of  the  bed,  and  saw  a  gigantic,  powerful,  but 
most  lovely  arm — with  a  hand  whose  fingers  were  nothing 
the  less  ladylike  that  they  could  have  strangled  a  boa- 
constrictor,  or  choked  a  tigress  off  its  prey — stretched  down 
through  a  big  hole  in  the  roof.  Without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion he  reached  out  his  tiny  one,  and  laid  it  in  the  grand 
palm  before  him. 


163] 


CHAPTER  VI 
OUT  IN  THE  STORM 

THE  hand  felt  its  way  up  his  arm,  and,  grasping  it  gently 
and  strongly  above  the  elbow,  lifted  Diamond  from  the 
bed.  The  moment  he  was  through  the  hole  in  the  roof, 
all  the  winds  of  heaven  seemed  to  lay  hold  upon  him,  and  buffet 
him  hither  and  thither.  His  hair  blew  one  way,  his  night-gown 
another,  his  legs  threatened  to  float  from  under  him,  and  his 
head  to  grow  dizzy  with  the  swiftness  of  the  invisible  assailant. 
Cowering  he  clung  with  the  other  hand  to  the  huge  hand  which 
held  his  arm,  and  fear  invaded  his  heart. 

"Oh,  North  Wind!" he  murmured,  but  the  words  vanished 
from  his  lips  as  he  had  seen  the  soap-bubbles  that  burst  too 
soon  vanish  from  the  mouth  of  his  pipe.  The  wind  caught 
them,  and  they  were  nowhere.  They  couldn't  get  out  at  all, 
but  were  torn  away  and  strangled.  And  yet  North  Wind  heard 
them,  and  in  her  answer  it  seemed  to  Diamond  that  just  be- 
cause she  was  so  big  and  could  not  help  it,  and  just  because 
her  ear  and  her  mouth  must  seem  to  him  so  dreadfully  far  away, 
she  spoke  to  him  more  tenderly  and  graciously  than  ever  be- 
fore. Her  voice  was  like  the  bass  of  a  deep  organ,  without  the 
groan  in  it;  like  the  most  delicate  of  violin  tones  without  the 
wail  in  it;  like  the  most  glorious  of  trumpet-ejaculations  with- 
out the  defiance  in  it;  like  the  sound  of  falling  water  without 
the  clatter  and  clash  in  it :  it  was  like  all  of  them  and  neither  of 
them — all  of  them  without  their  faults,  each  of  them  without 

[64] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

its  peculiarity;    after  all,  it  was  more  like  his  mother's  voice 
than  anything  else  in  the  world. 

"Diamond,  dear,"  she  said,  "be  a  man.  What  is  fearful  to 
you  is  not  the  least  fearful  to  me." 

"But  it  can't  hurt  you,"  murmured  Diamond,  "for  you're 
it. 

"Then,  if  I'm  it,  and  have  you  in  my  arms,  how  can  it  hurt 
you? 

"Oh  yes!  I  see,"  whispered  Diamond.  "But  it  looks  so 
dreadful,  and  it  pushes  me  about  so." 

"Yes,  it  does,  my  dear.    That  is  what  it  was  sent  for." 

At  the  same  moment,  a  peal  of  thunder  which  shook  Dia- 
mond's heart  against  the  sides  of  his  bosom  hurtled  out  of  the 
heavens:  I  cannot  say  out  of  the  sky,  for  there  was  no  sky. 
Diamond  had  not  seen  the  lightning,  for  he  had  been  intent 
on  finding  the  face  of  North  Wind.  Every  moment  the  folds 
of  her  garment  would  sweep  across  his  eyes  and  blind  him, 
but  between,  he  could  just  persuade  himself  that  he  saw  great 
glories  of  woman's  eyes  looking  down  through  rifts  in  the 
mountainous  clouds  over  his  head. 

He  trembled  so  at  the  thunder,  that  his  knees  failed  him, 
and  he  sunk  down  at  North  Wind's  feet,  and  clasped  her  round 
the  column  of  her  ankle.  She  instantly  stooped  and  lifted  him 
from  the  roof — up — up  into  her  bosom,  and  held  him  there, 
saying,  as  if  to  an  inconsolable  child — 

"Diamond,  dear,  this  will  never  do." 

"Oh  yes,  it  will,"  answered  Diamond.  "I  am  all  right  now 
— quite  comfortable,  I  assure  you,  dear  North  Wind.  If  you 
will  only  let  me  stay  here,  I  shall  be  all  right  indeed." 

[65] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"But  you  will  feel  the  wind  here,  Diamond." 

"  I  don't  mind  that  a  bit,  so  long  as  I  feel  your  arms  through 
it,"  answered  Diamond,  nestling  closer  to  her  grand  bosom. 

"Brave  boy!"  returned  North  Wind,  pressing  him  closer. 

"  No,"  said  Diamond,  "  I  don't  see  that.  It's  not  courage  at 
all,  so  long  as  I  feel  you  there." 

"But  hadn't  you  better  get  into  my  hair?  Then  you  would 
not  feel  the  wind;  you  will  here." 

"Ah,  but,  dear  North  Wind,  you  don't  know  how  nice  it  is  to 
feel  your  arms  about  me.  It  is  a  thousand  times  better  to  have 
them  and  the  wind  together,  than  to  have  only  your  hair  and 
the  back  of  your  neck  and  no  wind  at  all." 

"But  it  is  surely  more  comfortable  there?" 

"  Well,  perhaps ;  but  I  begin  to  think  there  are  better  things 
than  being  comfortable." 

"Yes,  indeed  there  are.  Well,  I  will  keep  you  in  front  of 
me.  You  will  feel  the  wind,  but  not  too  much.  I  shall  only 
want  one  arm  to  take  care  of  you;  the  other  will  be  quite 
enough  to  sink  the  ship." 

"Oh,  dear  North  Wind!  how  can  you  talk  so?" 

"My  dear  boy,  I  never  talk;  I  always  mean  what  I  say." 

"Then  you  do  mean  to  sink  the  ship  with  the  other  hand?" 

"Yes." 

"It's  not  like  you." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Quite  easily.  Here  you  are  taking  care  of  a  poor  little  boy 
with  one  arm,  and  there  you  are  sinking  a  ship  with  the  other. 
It  can't  be  like  you." 

"Ah!  but  which  is  me?    I  can't  be  two  mes,  you  know." 

[66] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No.    Nobody  can  be  two  mes." 

"Well,  which  me  is  me?" 

"Now  I  must  think.    There  looks  to  be  two." 

"Yes.    That's  the  very  point. — You  can't  be  knowing  the 
thing  you  don't  know,  can  you?" 

"No." 

"Which  me  do  you  know?" 

"The  kindest,  goodest,  best  me  in  the  world,"  answered 
Diamond,  clinging  to  North  Wind. 

"Why  am  I  good  to  you?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Have  you  ever  done  anything  for  me?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  must  be  good  to  you  because  I  choose  to  be  good 
to  you." 

"Yes." 

"Why  should  I  choose?" 

"Because — because — because  you  like." 

"Why  should  I  like  to  be  good  to  you?" 

"I  don't  know,  except  it  be  because  it's  good  to  be  good  to 
me." 

"That's  just  it;  I  am  good  to  you  because  I  like  to  be  good." 

"Then  why  shouldn't  you  be  good  to  other  people  as  well  as 
to  me?" 

"That's  just  what  I  don't  know.    Why  shouldn't  I?" 

"I  don't  know  either.    Then  why  shouldn't  you?" 

"Because  I  am." 

"There  it  is  again,"  said  Diamond.   "I  don't  see  that  you 
are.    It  looks  quite  the  other  thing." 

[67] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"  Well,  but  listen  to  me,  Diamond.  You  know  the  one  me, 
you  say,  and  that  is  good." 

"Yes." 

"Do  you  know  the  other  me  as  well?" 

"No.    I  can't.    I  shouldn't  like  to." 

"There  it  is.  You  don't  know  the  other  me.  You  are  sure 
of  one  of  them?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you  are  sure  there  can't  be  two  mes?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  the  me  you  don't  know  must  be  the  same  as  the  me 
you  do  know — else  there  would  be  two  mes?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  the  other  me  you  don't  know  must  be  as  kind  as  the 
me  you  do  know?" 

"Yes." 

"Besides,  I  tell  you  that  it  is  so,  only  it  doesn't  look  like  it. 
That  I  confess  freely.    Have  you  anything  more  to  object?" 

"No,  no,  dear  North  Wind;   I  am  quite  satisfied." 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  something  you  might  object.  You 
might  say  that  the  me  you  know  is  like  the  other  me,  and  that 
I  am  cruel  all  through." 

"I  know  that  can't  be,  because  you  are  so  kind." 

"But  that  kindness  might  be  only  a  pretence  for  the  sake 
of  being  more  cruel  afterwards." 

Diamond  clung  to  her  tighter  than  ever,  crying — 

"No,  no,  dear  North  Wind;  I  can't  believe  that.  I  don't 
believe  it.  I  won't  believe  it.  That  would  kill  me.  I  love 
you,  and  you  must  love  me,  else  how  did  I  come  to  love  you? 

[68] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

How  could  you  know  how  to  put  on  such  a  beautiful  face  if 
you  did  not  love  me  and  the  rest?  No.  You  may  sink  as  many 
ships  as  you  like,  and  I  won't  say  another  word.  I  can't  say  I 
shall  like  to  see  it,  you  know." 

"That's  quite  another  thing,"  said  North  Wind;  and  as  she 
spoke  she  gave  one  spring  from  the  roof  of  the  hay-loft,  and 
rushed  up  into  the  clouds,  with  Diamond  on  her  left  arm  close 
to  her  heart.  And  as  if  the  clouds  knew  she  had  come,  they 
burst  into  a  fresh  jubilation  of  thunderous  light.  For  a  few 
moments,  Diamond  seemed  to  be  borne  up  through  the  depths 
of  an  ocean  of  dazzling  flame;  the  next,  the  winds  were  writh- 
ing around  him  like  a  storm  of  serpents.  For  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  clouds  and  mists,  and  they  of  course  took  the 
shapes  of  the  wind,  eddying  and  wreathing  and  whirling  and 
shooting  and  dashing  about  like  gray  and  black  water,  so  that 
it  was  as  if  the  wind  itself  had  taken  shape,  and  he  saw  the 
gray  and  black  wind  tossing  and  raving  most  madly  all  about 
him.  Now  it  blinded  him  by  smiting  him  upon  the  eyes;  now 
it  deafened  him  by  bellowing  in  his  ears;  for  even  when  the 
thunder  came  he  knew  now  that  it  was  the  billows  of  the  great 
ocean  of  the  air  dashing  against  each  other  in  their  haste  to 
fill  the  hollow  scooped  out  by  the  lightning;  now  it  took  his 
breath  quite  away  by  sucking  it  from  his  body  with  the  speed 
of  its  rush.  But  he  did  not  mind  it.  He  only  gasped  first  and 
then  laughed,  for  the  arm  of  North  Wind  was  about  him,  and 
he  was  leaning  against  her  bosom.  It  is  quite  impossible  for 
me  to  describe  what  he  saw.  Did  you  ever  watch  a  great  wave 
shoot  into  a  winding  passage  amongst  rocks?  If  you  ever  did, 
you  would  see  that  the  water  rushed  every  way  at  once,  some 

[69] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

of  it  even  turning  back  and  opposing  the  rest;  greater  con- 
fusion you  might  see  nowhere  except  in  a  crowd  of  frightened 
people.  Well,  the  wind  was  like  that,  except  that  it  went  much 
faster,  and  therefore  was  much  wilder,  and  twisted  and  shot 
and  curled  and  dodged  and  clashed  and  raved  ten  times  more 
madly  than  anything  else  in  creation  except  human  passions. 
Diamond  saw  the  threads  of  the  lady's  hair  streaking  it  all. 
In  parts  indeed  he  could  not  tell  which  was  hair  and  which  was 
black  storm  and  vapor.  It  seemed  sometimes  that  all  the 
great  billows  of  mist-muddy  wind  were  woven  out  of  the  cross- 
ing lines  of  North  Wind's  infinite  hair,  sweeping  in  endless 
intertwistings.  And  Diamond  felt  as  the  wind  seized  on  his 
hair,  which  his  mother  kept  rather  long,  as  if  he  too  was  a  part 
of  the  storm,  and  some  of  its  life  went  out  from  him.  But  so 
sheltered  was  he  by  North  Wind's  arm  and  bosom  that  only 
at  times,  in  the  fiercer  onslaught  of  some  curl-billowed  eddy, 
did  he  recognize  for  a  moment  how  wild  was  the  storm  in  which 
he  was  carried,  nestling  in  its  very  core  and  formative  centre. 

It  seemed  to  Diamond  likewise  that  they  were  motionless  in 
this  centre,  and  that  all  the  confusion  and  fighting  went  on 
around  them.  Flash  after  flash  illuminated  the  fierce  chaos, 
revealing  in  varied  yellow  and  blue  and  gray  and  dusky  red  the 
vaporous  contention;  peal  after  peal  of  thunder  tore  the  in- 
finite waste;  but  it  seemed  to  Diamond  that  North  Wind  and 
he  were  motionless,  all  but  the  hair.  It  was  not  so.  They  were 
sweeping  with  the  speed  of  the  wind  itself  towards  the  sea. 


[70] 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  CATHEDRAL 

I  MUST  not  go  on  describing  what  cannot  be  described,  for 
nothing  is  more  wearisome. 
Before   they    reached    the    sea,  Diamond  felt   North 
Wind's  hair  beginning  to  fall  about  him. 

"Is  the  storm  over,  North  Wind?"  he  called  out. 

"No,  Diamond.  I  am  only  waiting  a  moment  to  set  you 
down.  You  would  not  like  to  see  the  ship  sunk,  and  I  am  going 
to  give  you  a  place  to  stop  in  till  I  come  back  for  you." 

"  Oh !  thank  you,"  said  Diamond.  "  I  shall  be  sorry  to  leave 
you,  North  Wind,  but  I  would  rather  not  see  the  ship  go  down. 
And  I'm  afraid  the  poor  people  will  cry,  and  I  should  hear 
them.     Oh,  dear!" 

"There  are  a  good  many  passengers  on  board;  and  to  tell 
the  truth,  Diamond,  I  don't  care  about  your  hearing  the  cry 
you  speak  of.  I  am  afraid  you  would  not  get  it  out  of  your 
little  head  again  for  a  long  time." 

"But  how  can  you  bear  it  then,  North  Wind?  For  I  am 
sure  you  are  kind.      I  shall  never  doubt  that  again." 

"I  will  tell  you  how  I  am  able  to  bear  it,  Diamond:  I  am 
always  hearing,  through  every  noise,  through  all  the  noise  I  am 
making  myself  even,  the  sound  of  a  far-off  song.  I  do  not 
exactly  know  where  it  is,  or  what  it  means;  and  I  don't  hear 
much  of  it,  only  the  odor  of  its  music,  as  it  were,  flitting  across 
the  great  billows  of  the  ocean  outside  this  air  in  which  I  make 
such  a  storm;  but  what  I  do  hear,  is  quite  enough  to  make  me 

[71] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

able  to  bear  the  cry  from  the  drowning  ship.    So  it  would  you 
if  you  could  hear  it." 

"No,  it  wouldn't,"  returned  Diamond,  stoutly.  "For  they 
wouldn't  hear  the  music  of  the  far-away  song;  and  if  they  did, 
it  wouldn't  do  them  any  good.  You  see  you  and  I  are  not 
going  to  be  drowned,  and  so  we  might  enjoy  it." 

"But  you  have  never  heard  the  psalm,  and  you  don't  know 
what  it  is  like.  Somehow,  I  can't  say  how,  it  tells  me  that  all 
is  right;  that  it  is  coming  to  swallow  up  all  cries." 

"But  that  won't  do  them  any  good — the  people,  I  mean," 
persisted  Diamond. 

"It  must.  It  must,"  said  North  Wind,  hurriedly.  "It 
wouldn't  be  the  song  it  seems  to  be  if  it  did  not  swallow  up  all 
their  fear  and  pain  too,  and  set  them  singing  it  themselves  with 
the  rest.  I  am  sure  it  will.  And  do  you  know,  ever  since  I 
knew  I  had  hair,  that  is,  ever  since  it  began  to  go  out  and  away, 
that  song  has  been  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  Only  I  must 
say  it  was  some  thousand  years  before  I  heard  it." 

"But  how  can  you  say  it  was  coming  nearer  when  you  did 
not  hear  it?"  asked  doubting  little  Diamond. 

"  Since  I  began  to  hear  it,  I  know  it  is  growing  louder,  there- 
fore I  judge  it  was  coming  nearer  and  nearer  until  I  did  hear 
it  first.  I'm  not  so  very  old,  you  know — a  few  thousand  years 
only — and  I  was  quite  a  baby  when  I  heard  the  noise  first,  but 
I  knew  it  must  come  from  the  voices  of  people  ever  so  much 
older  and  wiser  than  I  was.  I  can't  sing  at  all,  except  now  and 
then,  and  I  can  never  tell  what  my  song  is  going  to  be;  I  only 
know  what  it  is  after  I  have  sung  it. — But  this  will  never  do. 
Will  you  stop  here?" 

[72] 


©  ClMSK 


She  took  his  hand,  and  giving  him  the  broad  part  of  the  spiral  stair 
to  walk  on,  led  him  down  a  good  way. 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  can't  see  anywhere  to  stop,"  said  Diamond.  "  Your  hair 
is  all  down  like  a  darkness,  and  I  can't  see  through  it  if  I  knock 
my  eyes  into  it  ever  so  much." 

"Look  then,"  said  North  Wind;  and,  with  one  sweep  of 
her  great  white  arm,  she  swept  yards  deep  of  darkness  like  a 
great  curtain  from  before  the  face  of  the  boy. 

And  lo !  it  was  a  blue  night,  lit  up  with  stars.  Where  it  did 
not  shine  with  stars  it  shimmered  with  the  milk  of  the  stars, 
except  where,  just  opposite  to  Diamond's  face,  the  gray  towers 
of  a  cathedral  blotted  out  each  its  own  shape  of  sky  and  stars. 

"Oh!  what's  that?"  cried  Diamond,  struck  with  a  kind  of 
terror,  for  he  had  never  seen  a  cathedral,  and  it  rose  before  him 
with  an  awful  reality  in  the  midst  of  the  wide  spaces,  conquer- 
ing emptiness  with  grandeur. 

"A  very  good  place  for  you  to  wait  in,"  said  North  Wind. 
"But  we  shall  go  in,  and  you  shall  judge  for  yourself." 

There  was  an  open  door  in  the  middle  of  one  of  the  towers, 
leading  out  upon  the  roof,  and  through  it  they  passed.  Then 
North  Wind  set  Diamond  on  his  feet,  and  he  found  himself  at 
the  top  of  a  stone  stair,  which  went  twisting  away  down  into 
the  darkness.  For  only  a  little  light  came  in  at  the  door.  It 
was  enough,  however,  to  allow  Diamond  to  see  that  North 
Wind  stood  beside  him.  He  looked  up  to  find  her  face,  and 
saw  that  she  was  no  longer  a  beautiful  giantess,  but  the  tall 
gracious  lady  he  liked  best  to  see.  She  took  his  hand,  and, 
giving  him  the  broad  part  of  the  spiral  stair  to  walk  on,  led 
him  down  a  good  way;  then,  opening  another  little  door,  led 
him  out  upon  a  narrow  gallery  that  ran  all  round  the  central 
part  of  the  church,  on  the  ledges  of  the  windows  of  the  clere- 

[73] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

story,  and  through  openings  in  the  parts  of  the  wall  that  divided 
the  windows  from  each  other.  It  was  very  narrow,  and  except 
when  they  were  passing  through  the  wall,  Diamond  saw  noth- 
ing to  keep  him  from  falling  into  the  church.  It  lay  below  him 
like  a  great  silent  gulf  hollowed  in  stone,  and  he  held  his  breath 
for  fear  as  he  looked  down. 

"What  are  you  trembling  for,  little  Diamond?"  said  the 
lady,  as  she  walked  gently  along,  with  her  hand  held  out  be- 
hind her  leading  him,  for  there  was  not  breadth  enough  for 
them  to  walk  side  by  side. 

"I  am  afraid  of  falling  down  there,"  answered  Diamond. 
"It  is  so  deep  down." 

"Yes,  rather,"  answered  North  Wind;  "but  you  were  a 
hundred  times  higher  a  few  minutes  ago." 

"Ah,  yes,  but  somebody's  arm  was  about  me  then,"  said 
Diamond,  putting  his  little  mouth  to  the  beautiful  cold  hand 
that  had  a  hold  of  his. 

"What  a  dear  little  warm  mouth  you've  got!"  said  North 
Wind.  "  It  is  a  pity  you  should  talk  nonsense  with  it.  Don't 
you  know  I  have  a  hold  of  you?" 

"Yes;  but  I'm  walking  on  my  own  legs,  and  they  might 
slip.    I  can't  trust  myself  so  well  as  your  arms." 

"But  I  have  a  hold  of  you,  I  tell  you,  foolish  child." 

"Yes,  but  somehow  I  can't  feel  comfortable." 

"If  you  were  to  fall,  and  my  hold  of  you  were  to  give  way, 
I  should  be  down  after  you  in  a  less  moment  than  a  lady's 
watch  can  tick,  and  catch  you  long  before  you  had  reached 
the  ground." 

"I  don't  like  it,  though,"  said  Diamond. 

[74] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Oh!  oh!  oh!"  he  screamed  the  next  moment,  bent  double 
with  terror,  for  North  Wind  had  let  go  her  hold  of  his  hand, 
and  had  vanished,  leaving  him  standing  as  if  rooted  to  the 
gallery. 

She  left  the  words,  "Come  after  me,"  sounding  in  his  ears. 

But  move  he  dared  not.  In  a  moment  more  he  would  from 
very  terror  have  fallen  into  the  church,  but  suddenly  there 
came  a  gentle  breath  of  cool  wind  upon  his  face,  and  it  kept 
blowing  upon  him  in  little  puffs,  and  at  every  puff  Diamond 
felt  his  faintness  going  away,  and  his  fear  with  it.  Courage 
was  reviving  in  his  little  heart,  and  still  the  cool  wafts  of  the 
soft  wind  breathed  upon  him,  and  the  soft  wind  was  so  mighty 
and  strong  within  its  gentleness,  that  in  a  minute  more  Dia- 
mond was  marching  along  the  narrow  ledge  as  fearless  for 
the  time  as  North  Wind  herself. 

He  walked  on  and  on,  with  the  windows  all  in  a  row  on 
one  side  of  him,  and  the  great  empty  nave  of  the  church  echo- 
ing to  every  one  of  his  brave  strides  on  the  other,  until  at 
last  he  came  to  a  little  open  door,  from  which  a  broader  stair 
led  him  down  and  down  and  down,  till  at  last  all  at  once  he 
found  himself  in  the  arms  of  North  Wind,  who  held  him  close 
to  her,  and  kissed  him  on  the  forehead.  Diamond  nestled  to 
her,  and  murmured  into  her  bosom, — 

"Why  did  you  leave  me,  dear  North  Wind?" 

"Because  I  wanted  you  to  walk  alone,"  she  answered. 

"But  it  is  so  much  nicer  here!"  said  Diamond. 

"I  daresay;  but  I  couldn't  hold  a  little  coward  to  my 
heart.     It  would  make  me  so  cold!" 

"But  I  wasn't  brave  of  myself,"  said  Diamond,  whom  my 

[75] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

older  readers  will  have  already  discovered  to  be  a  true  child 
in  this,  that  he  was  given  to  metaphysics.  "It  was  the  wind 
that  blew  in  my  face  that  made  me  brave.  Wasn't  it  now, 
North  Wind?" 

"Yes:  I  know  that.  You  had  to  be  taught  what  courage 
was.  And  you  couldn't  know  what  it  was  without  feeling  it: 
therefore  it  was  given  you.  But  don't  you  feel  as  if  you 
would  try  to  be  brave  yourself  next  time?" 

"Yes,  I  do.     But  trying  is  not  much." 

"Yes,  it  is — a  very  great  deal,  for  it  is  a  beginning.  And 
a  beginning  is  the  greatest  thing  of  all.  To  try  to  be  brave 
is  to  be  brave.  The  coward  who  tries  to  be  brave  is  before 
the  man  who  is  brave  because  he  is  made  so,  and  never  had 
to  try." 

"How  kind  you  are,  North  Wind!" 

"I  am  only  just.    All  kindness  is  but  justice.    We  owe  it." 

"I  don't  quite  understand  that." 

"Never  mind;  you  will  some  day.  There  is  no  hurry 
about  understanding  it  now." 

"Who  blew  the  wind  on  me  that  made  me  brave?" 

"I  did." 

"I  didn't  see  you." 

"Therefore  you  can  believe  me." 

"Yes,  yes;  of  course.  But  how  was  it  that  such  a  little 
breath  could  be  so  strong?" 

"That  I  don't  know." 

"But  you  made  it  strong?" 

"No:  I  only  blew  it.  I  knew  it  would  make  you  strong, 
just  as  it  did  the  man  in  the  boat,  you  remember.    But  how 

[76] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

my  breath  has  that  power  I  cannot  tell.  It  was  put  into  it 
when  I  was  made.  That  is  all  I  know.  But  really  I  must  be 
going  about  my  work." 

"All!  the  poor  ship!  I  wish  you  would  stop  here,  and  let 
the  poor  ship  go." 

"That  I  dare  not  do.    Will  you  stop  here  till  I  come  back?  " 

"Yes.     You  won  t  be  long?" 

"Not  longer  than  I  can  help.  Trust  me,  you  shall  get 
home  before  the  morning." 

In  a  moment  North  Wind  was  gone,  and  the  next  Diamond 
heard  a  moaning  about  the  church,  which  grew  and  grew  to  a 
roaring.  The  storm  was  up  again,  and  he  knew  that  North 
Wind's  hair  was  flying. 

The  church  was  dark.  Only  a  little  light  came  through  the 
windows,  which  were  almost  all  of  that  precious  old  stained 
glass  which  is  so  much  lovelier  than  the  new.  But  Diamond 
could  not  see  how  beautiful  they  were,  for  there  was  not 
enough  of  light  in  the  stars  to  show  the  colors  of  them.  He 
could  only  just  distinguish  them  from  the  walls.  He  looked 
up,  but  could  not  see  the  gallery  along  which  he  had  passed. 
He  could  only  tell  where  it  was  far  up  by  the  faint  glimmer  of 
the  windows  of  the  clerestory,  whose  sills  made  part  of  it. 
The  church  grew  very  lonely  about  him,  and  he  began  to  feel 
like  a  child  whose  mother  has  forsaken  it.  Only  he  knew 
that  to  be  left  alone  is  not  always  to  be  forsaken. 

He  began  to  feel  his  way  about  the  place,  and  for  a  while 
went  wandering  up  and  down.  His  little  footsteps  waked  little 
answering  echoes  in  the  great  house.  It  wasn't  too  big  to 
mind  him.    It  was  as  if  the  church  knew  he  was  there,  and 

[77] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

meant  to  make  itself  his  house.  So  it  went  on  giving  back  an 
answer  to  every  step,  until  at  length  Diamond  thought  he 
should  like  to  say  something  out  loud,  and  see  what  the 
church  would  answer.  But  he  found  he  was  afraid  to  speak. 
He  could  not  utter  a  word  for  fear  of  the  loneliness.  Perhaps 
it  was  as  well  that  he  did  not,  for  the  sound  of  a  spoken  word 
would  have  made  him  feel  the  place  yet  more  deserted  and 
empty.  But  he  thought  he  could  sing.  He  was  fond  of  sing- 
ing, and  at  home  he  used  to  sing,  to  tunes  of  his  own,  all  the 
nursery  rhymes  he  knew.  So  he  began  to  try  Hey  diddle 
diddle,  but  it  wouldn't  do.  Then  he  tried  Little  Boy  Blue, 
but  it  was  no  better.  Neither  would  Sing  a  Song  of  Sixpence 
sing  itself  at  all.  Then  he  tried  Poor  old  Cockytoo,  but  he 
wouldn't  do.  They  all  sounded  so  silly!  and  he  had  never 
thought  them  silly  before.  So  he  was  quiet,  and  listened  to 
the  echoes  that  came  out  of  the  dark  corners  in  answer  to 
his  footsteps. 

At  last  he  gave  a  great  sigh,  and  said,  "I'm  so  tired." 
But  he  did  not  hear  the  gentle  echo  that  answered  from  far 
away  over  his  head,  for  at  the  same  moment  he  came  against 
the  lowest  of  a  few  steps  that  stretched  across  the  church, 
and  fell  down  and  hurt  his  arm.  He  cried  a  little  first,  and 
then  crawled  up  the  steps  on  his  hands  and  knees.  At  the 
top  he  came  to  a  little  bit  of  carpet,  on  which  he  lay  down; 
and  there  he  lay  staring  at  the  dull  window  that  rose  nearly 
a  hundred  feet  above  his  head. 

Now  this  was  the  eastern  window  of  the  church,  and  the 
moon  was  at  that  moment  just  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon. 
The  next,  she  was  peeping  over  it.    And  lo!  with  the  moon, 

[78] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

St.  John  and  St.  Paul,  and  the  rest  of  them,  began  to  dawn  in 
the  window  in  their  lovely  garments.  Diamond  did  not  know 
that  the  wonder-working  moon  was  behind,  and  he  thought 
all  the  light  was  coming  out  of  the  window  itself,  and  that  the 
good  old  men  were  appearing  to  help  him,  growing  out  of  the 
night  and  the  darkness,  because  he  had  hurt  his  arm,  and 
was  very  tired  and  lonely,  and  North  Wind  was  so  long  in 
coming.  So  he  lay  and  looked  at  them  backwards  over  his 
head,  wondering  when  they  would  come  down  or  what  they 
would  do  next.  They  were  very  dim,  for  the  moonlight  was 
not  strong  enough  for  the  colors,  and  he  had  enough  to  do 
with  his  eyes  trying  to  make  out  their  shapes.  So  his  eyes 
grew  tired,  and  more  and  more  tired,  and  his  eyelids  grew  so 
heavy  that  they  would  keep  tumbling  down  over  his  eyes. 
He  kept  lifting  them  and  lifting  them,  but  every  time  they 
were  heavier  than  the  last.  It  was  no  use:  they  were  too 
much  for  him.  Sometimes  before  he  had  got  them  half  up, 
down  they  were  again;  and  at  length  he  gave  it  up  quite, 
and  the  moment  he  gave  it  up,  he  was  fast  asleep. 


[79  J 


vm   % 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  EAST  WINDOW 

Y  ||  ^HAT  Diamond  had  fallen  fast  asleep  is  very  evident 
from  the  strange  things  he  now  fancied  as  taking  place. 
For  he  thought  he  heard  a  sound  as  of  whispering  up 
in  the  great  window.  He  tried  to  open  his  eyes,  but  he  could 
not.  And  the  whispering  went  on  and  grew  louder  and  louder, 
until  he  could  hear  every  word  that  was  said.  He  thought  it 
was  the  Apostles  talking  about  him.  But  he  could  not  open 
his  eyes. 

"And  how  comes  he  to  be  lying  there,  St.  Peter?"  said 
one. 

"I  think  I  saw  him  a  while  ago  up  in  the  gallery,  under 
the  Nicodemus  window.  Perhaps  he  has  fallen  down.  What 
do  you  think,  St.  Matthew?" 

"I  don't  think  he  could  have  crept  here  after  falling  from 
such  a  height.    He  must  have  been  killed." 

"What  are  we  to  do  with  him?  We  can't  leave  him  lying 
there.  And  we  could  not  make  him  comfortable  up  here  in 
the  window:  it's  rather  crowded  already.  What  do  you  say, 
St.  Thomas?" 

"Let's  go  down  and  look  at  him." 

There  came  a  rustling,  and  a  chinking,  for  some  time, 
and  then  there  was  a  silence,  and  Diamond  felt  somehow 
that  all  the  Apostles  were  standing  round  him  and  looking 
down  on  him.    And  still  he  could  not  open  his  eyes. 

[80] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"What  is  the  matter  with  him,  St.  Luke?"  asked  one. 

"There's  nothing  the  matter  with  him/'  answered  St. 
Luke,  who  must  have  joined  the  company  of  the  Apostles 
from  the  next  window,  one  would  think.  "He's  in  a  sound 
sleep." 

"I  have  it,"  cried  another.  "This  is  one  of  North  Wind's 
tricks.  She  has  caught  him  up  and  dropped  him  at  our  door, 
like  a  withered  leaf  or  a  foundling  baby.  I  don't  understand 
that  woman's  conduct,  I  must  say.  As  if  we  hadn't  enough 
to  do  with  our  money,  without  going  taking  care  of  other 
people's  children!  That's  not  what  our  forefathers  built 
cathedrals  for." 

Now  Diamond  could  not  bear  to  hear  such  things  against 
North  Wind,  who,  he  knew,  never  played  anybody  a  trick. 
She  was  far  too  busy  with  her  own  work  for  that.  He  strug- 
gled hard  to  open  his  eyes,  but  without  success. 

"She  should  consider  that  a  church  is  not  a  place  for 
pranks,  not  to  mention  that  we  live  in  it,"  said  another. 

"It  certainly  is  disrespectful  of  her.  But  she  always  is 
disrespectful.  What  right  has  she  to  bang  at  our  windows 
as  she  has  been  doing  the  whole  of  this  night?  I  dare  say 
there  is  glass  broken  somewhere.  I  know  my  blue  robe  is  in 
a  dreadful  mess  with  the  rain  first  and  the  dust  after.  It 
will  cost  me  shillings  to  clean  it." 

Then  Diamond  knew  that  they  could  not  be  Apostles, 
talking  like  this.  They  could  only  be  the  sextons  and  vergers, 
and  such-like,  who  got  up  at  night,  and  put  on  the  robes  of 
deans  and  bishops,  and  called  each  other  grand  names,  as 
the  foolish  servants  he  had  heard  his  father  tell  of  call  them- 

[81] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

selves  lords  and  ladies,  after  their  masters  and  mistresses. 
And  he  was  so  angry  at  their  daring  to  abuse  North  Wind, 
that  he  jumped  up,  crying — 

"North  Wind  knows  best  what  she  is  about.  She  has  a 
good  right  to  blow  the  cobwebs  from  your  windows,  for  she 
was  sent  to  do  it.  She  sweeps  them  away  from  grander 
places,  I  can  tell  you,  for  I've  been  with  her  at  it." 

This  was  what  he  began  to  say,  but  as  he  spoke  his  eyes 
came  wide  open,  and  behold,  there  were  neither  Apostles  nor 
vergers  there — not  even  a  window  with  the  effigies  of  holy 
men  in  it,  but  a  dark  heap  of  hay  all  about  him,  and  the  little 
panes  in  the  roof  of  his  loft  glimmering  blue  in  the  light  of 
the  morning.  Old  Diamond  was  coming  awake  down  below 
in  the  stable.  In  a  moment  more  he  was  on  his  feet,  and 
shaking  himself  so  that  young  Diamond's  bed  trembled  under 
him. 

"He's  grand  at  shaking  himself,"  said  Diamond.  "I  wish 
I  could  shake  myself  like  that.  But  then  I  can  wash  myself, 
and  he  can't.  What  fun  it  would  be  to  see  Old  Diamond 
washing  his  face  with  his  hoofs  and  iron  shoes!  Wouldn't  it 
be  a  picture?" 

So  saying,  he  got  up  and  dressed  himself.  Then  he  went 
out  into  the  garden.  There  must  have  been  a  tremendous 
wind  in  the  night,  for  although  all  was  quiet  now,  there  lay 
the  little  summer-house  crushed  to  the  ground,  and  over  it 
the  great  elm-tree,  which  the  wind  had  broken  across,  being 
much  decayed  in  the  middle.  Diamond  almost  cried  to  see 
the  wilderness  of  green  leaves,  which  used  to  be  so  far  up  in 
the  blue  air,  tossing  about  in  the  breeze,  and  liking  it  best 

[82] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

when  the  wind  blew  it  most,  now  lying  so  near  the  ground, 
and  without  any  hope  of  ever  getting  up  into  the  deep  air 
again. 

"I  wonder  how  old  the  tree  is!"  thought  Diamond.  "It 
must  take  a  long  time  to  get  so  near  the  sky  as  that  poor  tree 
was/' 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  a  voice  beside  him,  for  Diamond  had 
spoken  the  last  words  aloud. 

Diamond  started,  and  looking  round  saw  a  clergyman,  a 
brother  of  Mrs.  Coleman,  who  happened  to  be  visiting  her. 
He  was  a  great  scholar,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  rising 
early. 

"Who  are  you,  my  man?"  he  added. 

"Little  Diamond,"  answered  the  boy. 

"Oh!  I  have  heard  of  you.  How  do  you  come  to  be  up 
so  early?" 

"Because  the  sham  Apostles  talked  such  nonsense,  they 
waked  me  up." 

The  clergyman  stared.  Diamond  saw  that  he  had  better 
have  held  his  tongue,  for  he  could  not  explain  things. 

"You  must  have  been  dreaming,  my  little  man,"  said  he. 
"Dear!  dear!"  he  went  on,  looking  at  the  tree,  "there  has 
been  terrible  work  here.  This  is  the  north  wind's  doing. 
What  a  pity!    I  wish  we  lived  at  the  back  of  it,  I'm  sure." 

"Where  is  that,  sir?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Away  in  the  Hyperborean  regions,"  answered  the  clergy- 
man, smiling. 

"I  never  heard  of  the  place,"  returned  Diamond. 

"I  daresay  not,"  answered  the  clergyman;    "but  if  this 

[83] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

tree  had  been  there  now,  it  would  not  have  been  blown  down, 
for  there  is  no  wind  there." 

"But,  please,  sir,  if  it  had  been  there,"  said  Diamond, 
"we  should  not  have  had  to  be  sorry  for  it." 

"Certainly  not." 

"Then  we  shouldn't  have  had  to  be  glad  for  it,  either." 

"You're  quite  right,  my  boy,"  said  the  clergyman,  look- 
ing at  him  very  kindly,  as  he  turned  away  to  the  house,  with 
his  eyes  bent  towards  the  earth.  But  Diamond  thought 
within  himself,  "I  will  ask  North  Wind  next  time  I  see  her 
to  take  me  to  that  country.  I  think  she  did  speak  about  it 
once  before." 


[84] 


CHAPTER  IX 

HOW  DIAMOND  GOT  TO  THE  BACK  OF  THE 
NORTH  WIND 

WHEN  Diamond  went  home  to  breakfast,  he  found 
his  father  and  mother  already  seated  at  the  table. 
They  were  both  busy  with  their  bread  and  butter, 
and  Diamond  sat  himself  down  in  his  usual  place.  His  mother 
looked  up  at  him,  and,  after  watching  him  for  a  moment, 
said: 

"I  don't  think  the  boy  is  looking  well,  husband." 

"Don't  you?  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  think  he  looks  pretty 
bobbish.    How  do  you  feel  yourself,  Diamond,  my  boy?" 

"Quite  well,  thank  you,  father;  at  least,  I  think  I've  got 
a  little  headache." 

"There!  I  told  you,"  said  his  father  and  mother  both  at 
once. 

"The  child's  very  poorly,"  added  his  mother. 

"The  child's  quite  well,"  added  his  father. 

And  then  they  both  laughed. 

"You  see,"  said  his  mother,  "I've  had  a  letter  from  my 
sister  at  Sandwich." 

"Sleepy  old  hole!"  said  his  father. 

"Don't  abuse  the  place;  there's  good  people  in  it,"  said 
his  mother. 

"Right,  old  lady,"  returned  his  father;  "only  I  don't  be- 
lieve there  are  more  than  two  pair  of  carriage-horses  in  the 
whole  blessed  place." 

[85] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Well,  people  can  get  to  heaven  without  carriages— or 
coachmen  either,  husband.  Not  that  I  should  like  to  go 
without  my  coachman,  you  know.    But  about  the  boy?" 

"What  boy?" 

"That  boy,  there,  staring  at  you  with  his  goggle-eyes." 

"Have  I  got  goggle-eyes,  mother?"  asked  Diamond,  a 
little  dismayed. 

"Not  too  goggle,"  said  his  mother,  who  was  quite  proud 
of  her  boy's  eyes,  only  did  not  want  to  make  him  vain.  "Not 
too  goggle;   only  you  need  not  stare  so." 

"Well,  what  about  him?"  said  his  father. 

"I  told  you  I  had  got  a  letter." 

"Yes,  from  your  sister;   not  from  Diamond." 

"La,  husband!  you've  got  out  of  bed  the  wrong  leg  first 
this  morning,  I  do  believe." 

"I  always  get  out  with  both  at  once,"  said  his  father, 
laughing. 

"Well,  listen  then.  His  aunt  wants  the  boy  to  go  down 
and  see  her." 

"And  that's  why  you  want  to  make  out  that  he  ain't 
looking  well." 

"No  more  he  is.    I  think  he  had  better  go." 

"Well,  I  don't  care,  if  you  can  find  the  money,"  said  his: 
father. 

"I'll  manage  that,"  said  his  mother;  and  so  it  was  agreed 
that  Diamond  should  go  to  Sandwich. 

I  will  not  describe  the  preparations  Diamond  made.    You 

would  have  thought  he  had  been  going  on  a  three  months' 

voyage.    Nor  will  I  describe  the  journey,  for  our  business  is 

[86] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

now  at  the  place.  He  was  met  at  the  station  by  his  aunt,  a 
cheerful  middle-aged  woman,  and  conveyed  in  safety  to  the 
sleepy  old  town,  as  his  father  had  called  it.  And  no  wonder 
that  it  was  sleepy,  for  it  was  nearly  dead  of  old  age. 

Diamond  went  about  staring,  with  his  beautiful  goggle- 
eyes,  at  the  quaint  old  streets,  and  the  shops,  and  the  houses. 
Everything  looked  very  strange,  indeed;  for  here  was  a  town 
abandoned  by  its  nurse,  the  sea,  like  an  old  oyster  left  on 
the  shore  till  it  gaped  for  weariness.  It  used  to  be  one  of  the 
five  chief  seaports  in  England,  but  it  began  to  hold  itself  too 
high,  and  the  consequence  was  the  sea  grew  less  and  less 
intimate  with  it,  gradually  drew  back,  and  kept  more  to  itself, 
till  at  length  it  left  it  high  and  dry:  Sandwich  was  a  seaport 
no  more;  the  sea  went  on  with  its  own  tide-business  a  long 
way  off,  and  forgot  it.  Of  course  it  went  to  sleep,  and  had  no 
more  to  do  with  ships.  That's  what  comes  to  cities  and 
nations,  and  boys  and  girls,  who  say,  "I  can  do  without 
your  help.     I'm  enough  for  myself." 

Diamond  soon  made  great  friends  with  an  old  woman  who 
kept  a  toyshop,  for  his  mother  had  given  him  twopence  for 
pocket-money  before  he  left,  and  he  had  gone  into  her  shop 
to  spend  it,  and  she  got  talking  to  him.  She  looked  very 
funny,  because  she  had  not  got  any  teeth,  but  Diamond  liked 
her,  and  went  often  to  her  shop,  although  he  had  nothing  to 
spend  there  after  the  twopence  was  gone. 

One  afternoon  he  had  been  wandering  rather  wearily  about 
the  streets  for  some  time.  It  was  a  hot  day,  and  he  felt  tired. 
As  he  passed  the  toyshop,  he  stepped  in. 

"Please  may  I  sit  down  for  a  minute  on  this  box?'*  he 

[87] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

said,  thinking  the  old  woman  was  somewhere  in  the  shop. 
But  he  got  no  answer,  and  sat  down  without  one.  Around 
him  were  a  great  many  toys  of  all  prices,  from  a  penny  up 
to  shillings.  All  at  once  he  heard  a  gentle  whirring  some- 
where amongst  them.  It  made  him  start  and  look  behind  him. 
There  were  the  sails  of  a  windmill  going  round  and  round 
almost  close  to  his  ear.  He  thought  at  first  it  must  be  one 
of  those  toys  which  are  wound  up  and  go  with  clockwork; 
but  no,  it  was  a  common  penny  toy,  with  the  windmill  at  the 
end  of  a  whistle,  and  when  the  whistle  blows  the  windmill 
goes.  But  the  wonder  was  that  there  was  no  one  at  the 
whistle  end  blowing,  and  yet  the  sails  were  turning  round  and 
round — now  faster,  now  slower,  now  faster  again. 

"What  can  it  mean?"  said  Diamond,  aloud. 

"It  means  me,"  said  the  tiniest  voice  he  had  ever  heard. 

"Who  are  you,  please?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Well,  really,  I  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  you,"  said  the 
voice.  "I  wonder  how  long  it  will  be  before  you  know  me; 
or  how  often  I  might  take  you  in  before  you  got  sharp  enough 
to  suspect  me.  You  are  as  bad  as  a  baby  that  doesn't  know 
his  mother  in  a  new  bonnet." 

"Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  dear  North  Wind,"  said  Dia- 
mond, "for  I  didn't  see  you  at  all,  and  indeed  I  don't  see 
you  yet,  although  I  recognise  your  voice.  Do  grow  a  little, 
please." 

"Not  a  hair's-breadth,"  said  the  voice,  and  it  was  the 
smallest  voice  that  ever  spoke.    "What  are  you  doing  here?" 

"I  am  come  to  see  my  aunt.  But,  please,  North  Wind, 
why  didn't  you  come  back  for  me  in  the  church  that  night?" 

[88] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  did.  I  carried  you  safe  home.  All  the  time  you  were 
dreaming  about  the  glass  apostles,  you  were  lying  in  my  arms." 

"I'm  so  glad,"  said  Diamond.  "I  thought  that  must  be 
it,  only  I  wanted  to  hear  you  say  so.  Did  you  sink  the  ship, 
then?" 

"Yes." 

"And  drown  everybody?" 

"Not  quite.  One  boat  got  away  with  six  or  seven  men 
in  it." 

"How  could  the  boat  swim  when  the  ship  couldn't?" 

"Of  course  I  had  some  trouble  with  it.  I  had  to  contrive 
a  bit,  and  manage  the  waves  a  little.  When  they're  once 
thoroughly  waked  up,  I  have  a  good  deal  of  trouble  with 
them  sometimes.  They're  apt  to  get  stupid  with  tumbling 
over  each  other's  heads.  That's  when  they're  fairly  at  it. 
However,  the  boat  got  to  a  desert  island  before  noon  next 
day." 

"And  what  good  will  come  of  that?" 

"I  don't  know.    I  obeyed  orders.    Good  bye." 

"Oh!  stay,  North  W7ind,  do  stay!"  cried  Diamond,  dis- 
mayed to  see  the  windmill  get  slower  and  slower. 

"What  is  it,  my  dear  child?"  said  North  Wind,  and  the 
windmill  began  turning  again  so  swiftly  that  Diamond  could 
scarcely  see  it.  "WThat  a  big  voice  you've  got!  and  what  a 
noise  you  do  make  with  it!  What  is  it  you  want?  I  have 
little  to  do,  but  that  little  must  be  done." 

"I  want  you  to  take  me  to  the  country  at  the  back  of 
the  north  wind." 

"That's  not  so  easy,"  said  North  Wind,  and  was  silent 

[89] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

for  so  long  that  Diamond  thought  she  was  gone  indeed.  But 
after  he  had  quite  given  her  up,  the  voice  began  again. 

"I  almost  wish  old  Herodotus  had  held  his  tongue  about 
it.     Much  he  knew  of  it!" 

"Why  do  you  wish  that,  North  Wind?" 

"Because  then  that  clergyman  would  never  have  heard 
of  it,  and  set  you  wanting  to  go.  But  we  shall  see.  We  shall 
see.  You  must  go  home  now,  my  dear,  for  you  don't  seem 
very  well,  and  I'll  see  what  can  be  done  for  you.  Don't  wait 
for  me.  I've  got  to  break  a  few  of  old  Goody's  toys:  she's 
thinking  too  much  of  her  new  stock.  Two  or  three  will  do. 
There!  go  now." 

Diamond  rose,  quite  sorry,  and  without  a  word  left  the 
shop,  and  went  home. 

It  soon  appeared  that  his  mother  had  been  right  about 
him,  for  that  same  afternoon  his  head  began  to  ache  very 
much,  and  he  had  to  go  to  bed. 

He  awoke  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  The  lattice  window 
of  his  room  had  blown  open,  and  the  curtains  of  his  little  bed 
were  swinging  about  in  the  wind. 

"If  that  should  be  North  Wind  now!"  thought  Diamond. 

But  the  next  moment  he  heard  some  one  closing  the  win- 
dow, and  his  aunt  came  to  the  bedside.  She  put  her  hand 
on  his  face,  and  said — 

"How's  your  head,  dear?" 

"Better,  auntie,  I  think." 

"Would  you  like  something  to  drink?" 

"Oh,  yes!  I  should,  please." 

So  his  aunt  gave  him  some  lemonade,  for  she  had  been 

[90] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

used  to  nursing  sick  people,  and  Diamond  felt  very  much 
refreshed,  and  laid  his  head  down  again  to  go  very  fast  asleep, 
as  he  thought.  And  so  he  did,  but  only  to  come  awake  again, 
as  a  fresh  burst  of  wind  blew  the  lattice  open  a  second  time. 
The^same  moment  he  found  himself  in  a  cloud  of  North  Wind's 
hair,  with  her  beautiful  face,  set  in  it  like  a  moon,  bending 
over  him. 

"Quick,  Diamond!"  she  said.  "I  have  found  such  a 
chance!" 

"But  I'm  not  well,"  said  Diamond. 

"I  know  that,  but  you  will  be  better  for  a  little  fresh  air. 
You  shall  have  plenty  of  that." 

"You  want  me  to  go,  then?" 

"Yes,  I  do.     It  won't  hurt  you." 

"Very  well,"  said  Diamond;  and  getting  out  of  the  bed- 
clothes, he  jumped  into  North  Wind's  arms. 

"We  must  make  haste  before  your  aunt  comes,"  said  she, 
as  she  glided  out  of  the  open  lattice  and  left  it  swinging. 

The  moment  Diamond  felt  her  arms  fold  around  him  he 
began  to  feel  better.  It  was  a  moonless  night,  and  very  dark, 
with  glimpses  of  stars  when  the  clouds  parted. 

"I  used  to  dash  the  waves  about  here,"  said  North  Wind, 
"where  cows  and  sheep  are  feeding  now;  but  we  shall  soon 
get  to  them.    There  they  are." 

And  Diamond,  looking  down,  saw  the  white  glimmer  of 
breaking  water  far  below  him. 

"You  see,  Diamond,"  said  North  Wind,  "it  is  very  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  get  you  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,  for  that 
country  lies  in  the  very  north  itself,  and  of  course  I  can't 
blow  northwards." 

[91] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Why  not?"  asked  Diamond. 

"You  little  silly!"  said  North  Wind.  "Don't  you  see 
that  if  I  were  to  blow  northwards  I  should  be  South  Wind, 
and  that  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  one  person  could  be  two 
persons?" 

"But  how  can  you  ever  get  home  at  all,  then?" 

"You  are  quite  right — that  is  my  home,  though  I  never 
get  farther  than  the  outer  door.  I  sit  on  the  doorstep,  and 
hear  the  voices  inside.    I  am  nobody  there,  Diamond." 

"I'm  very  sorry." 

"Why?" 

"That  you  should  be  nobody." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  it.  Dear  little  man!  you  will  be  very 
glad  some  day  to  be  nobody  yourself.  But  you  can't  under- 
stand that  now,  and  you  had  better  not  try;  for  if  you  do, 
you  will  be  certain  to  go  fancying  some  egregious  nonsense, 
and  making  yourself  miserable  about  it." 

"Then  I  won't,"  said  Diamond. 

"There's  a  good  boy.     It  will  all  come  in  good  time." 

"But  you  haven't  told  me  how  you  get  to  the  doorstep, 
you  know." 

"It  is  easy  enough  for  me.  I  have  only  to  consent  to 
be  nobody,  and  there  I  am.  I  draw  into  myself,  and  there 
I  am  on  the  doorstep.  But  you  can  easily  see,  or  you  have 
less  sense  than  I  think,  that  to  drag  you,  you  heavy  thing, 
along  with  me,  would  take  centuries,  and  I  could  not  give 
the  time  to  it." 

"Oh,  I'm  so  sorry!"  said  Diamond. 

"What  for  now,  pet?" 

[92] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"That  I'm  so  heavy  for  you.  I  would  be  lighter  if  I 
could,  but  I  don't  know  how." 

"You  silly  darling!  Why,  I  could  toss  you  a  hundred 
miles  from  me  if  I  liked.  It  is  only  when  I  am  going  home 
that  I  shall  find  you  heavy." 

"Then  you  are  going  home  with  me?" 

"Of  course.     Did  I  not  come  to  fetch  you  just  for  that?" 

"But  all  this  time  you  must  be  going  southwards." 

"Yes.     Of  course  I  am." 

"How  can  you  be  taking  me  northwards,  then?" 

"A  very  sensible  question.  But  you  shall  see.  I  will  get 
rid  of  a  few  of  these  clouds — only  they  do  come  up  so  fast! 
It's  like  trying  to  blow  a  brook  dry.  There!  What  do  you 
see  now?" 

"I  think  I  see  a  little  boat,  away  there,  down  below." 

"A  little  boat,  indeed!  Well!  She's  a  yacht  of  two  hun- 
dred tons;  and  the  captain  of  it  is  a  friend  of  mine;  for  he 
is  a  man  of  good  sense,  and  can  sail  his  craft  well.  I've  helped 
him  many  a  time  when  he  little  thought  it.  I've  heard  him 
grumbling  at  me,  when  I  was  doing  the  very  best  I  could  for 
him.  Why,  I've  carried  him  eighty  miles  a  day,  again  and 
again,  right  north." 

"He  must  have  dodged  for  that,"  said  Diamond,  who  had 
been  watching  the  vessels,  and  had  seen  that  they  went  other 
ways  than  the  wind  blew. 

"Of  course  he  must.  But  don't  you  see,  it  was  the  best  I 
could  do?  I  couldn't  be  South  Wind.  And  besides  it  gave 
him  a  share  in  the  business.  It  is  not  good  at  all — mind 
that,  Diamond — to  do  everything  for  those  you  love,  and  not 

[93] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

give  them  a  share  in  the  doing.  It's  not  kind.  It's  making 
too  much  of  yourself,  my  child.  If  I  had  been  South  Wind, 
he  would  only  have  smoked  his  pipe  all  day,  and  made  him- 
self stupid." 

"But  how  could  he  be  a  man  of  sense  and  grumble  at 
you  when  you  were  doing  your  best  for  him?" 

"Oh!  you  must  make  allowances,"  said  North  Wind,  "or 
you  will  never  do  justice  to  anybody.  You  do  understand, 
then,  that  a  captain  may  sail  north " 

"In  spite  of  a  north  wind — yes,"  supplemented  Diamond. 

"Now,  I  do  think  you  must  be  stupid,  my  dear,"  said 
North  Wind.  "Suppose  the  north  wind  did  not  blow,  where 
would  he  be  then?" 

"Why  then  the  south  wind  would  carry  him." 

"So  you  think  that  when  the  north  wind  stops  the  south 
wind  blows.  Nonsense.  If  I  didn't  blow,  the  captain  couldn't 
sail  his  eighty  miles  a  day.  No  doubt  South  Wind  would 
carry  him  faster,  but  South  Wind  is  sitting  on  her  doorstep 
then,  and  if  I  stopped  there  would  be  a  dead  calm.  So  you 
are  all  wrong  to  say  he  can  sail  north  in  spite  of  me;  he  sails 
north  by  my  help,  and  my  help  alone.  You  see  that,  Dia- 
mond?" 

"Yes,  I  do,  North  Wind.  I  am  stupid,  but  I  don't  want 
to  be  stupid." 

"Good  boy!  I  am  going  to  blow  you  north  in  that  little 
craft,  one  of  the  finest  that  ever  sailed  the  sea.  Here  we  are, 
right  over  it.  I  shall  be  blowing  against  you;  you  will  be 
sailing  against  me;  and  all  will  be  just  as  we  want  it.  The 
captain  won't  get  on  so  fast  as  he  would  like,  but  he  will  get 

[94] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

on,  and  so  shall  we.  I'm  just  going  to  put  you  on  board. 
Do  you  see  in  front  of  the  tiller — that  thing  the  man  is  work- 
ing, now  to  one  side,  now  to  the  other — a  round  thing  like 
the  top  of  a  drum?" 

"Yes,"  said  Diamond. 

"Below  that  is  where  they  keep  their  spare  sails,  and  some 
stores  of  that  sort.  I  am  going  to  blow  that  cover  off.  The 
same  moment  I  will  drop  you  on  deck,  and  you  must  tumble 
in.  Don't  be  afraid,  it  is  of  no  depth,  and  you  will  fall  on  a 
roll  of  sail-cloth.  You  will  find  it  nice  and  warm  and  dry — 
only  dark;  and  you  will  know  I  am  near  you  by  every 
roll  and  pitch  of  the  vessel.  Coil  yourself  up  and  go  to 
sleep.  The  yacht  shall  be  my  cradle,  and  you  shall  be 
my  baby." 

"Thank  you,  dear  North  Wind.  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid," 
said  Diamond. 

In  a  moment  they  were  on  a  level  with  the  bulwarks,  and 
North  Wind  sent  the  hatch  of  the  after-store  rattling  away 
over  the  deck  to  leeward.  The  next,  Diamond  found  himself 
in  the  dark,  for  he  had  tumbled  through  the  hole  as  North 
Wind  had  told  him,  and  the  cover  was  replaced  over  his  head. 
Away  he  went  rolling  to  leeward,  for  the  wind  began  all  at 
once  to  blow  hard.  He  heard  the  call  of  the  captain,  and  the 
loud  trampling  of  the  men  over  his  head,  as  they  hauled  at 
the  main  sheet  to  get  the  boom  on  board  that  they  might  take 
in  a  reef  in  the  mainsail.  Diamond  felt  about  until  he  had 
found  what  seemed  the  most  comfortable  place,  and  there  he 
snuggled  down  and  lay. 

Hours  after  hours,  a  great  many  of  them,  went  by;    and 

[95] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

still  Diamond  lay  there.  He  never  felt  in  the  least  tired  or 
impatient,  for  a  strange  pleasure  filled  his  heart.  The  strain- 
ing of  the  masts,  the  creaking  of  the  boom,  the  singing  of  the 
ropes,  the  banging  of  the  blocks  as  they  put  the  vessel  about, 
all  fell  in  with  the  roaring  of  the  wind  above,  the  surge  of  the 
waves  past  her  sides,  and  the  thud  with  which  every  now  and 
then  one  would  strike  her;  while  through  it  all  Diamond  could 
hear  the  gurgling,  rippling,  talking  flow  of  the  water  against 
her  planks,  as  she  slipped  through  it,  lying  now  on  this  side, 
now  on  that — like  a  subdued  air  running  through  the  grand 
music  his  North  Wind  was  making  about  him  to  keep  him 
from  tiring  as  they  sped  on  towards  the  country  at  the  back 
of  her  doorstep. 

How  long  this  lasted  Diamond  had  no  idea.  He  seemed 
to  fall  asleep  sometimes,  only  through  the  sleep  he  heard  the 
sounds  going  on.  At  length  the  weather  seemed  to  get  worse. 
The  confusion  and  trampling  of  feet  grew  more  frequent  over 
his  head;  the  vessel  lay  over  more  and  more  on  her  side,  and 
went  roaring  through  the  waves,  which  banged  and  thumped 
at  her  as  if  in  anger.  All  at  once  arose  a  terrible  uproar. 
The  hatch  was  blown  off;  a  cold  fierce  wind  swept  in  upon 
him;  and  a  long  arm  came  with  it  which  laid  hold  of  him  and 
lifted  him  out.  The  same  moment  he  saw  the  little  vessel  far 
below  him  righting  herself.  She  had  taken  in  all  her  sails 
and  lay  now  tossing  on  the  waves  like  a  sea-bird  with  folded 
wings.  A  short  distance  to  the  south  lay  a  much  larger  ves- 
sel, with  two  or  three  sails  set,  and  towards  it  North  Wind 
was  carrying  Diamond.  It  was  a  German  ship,  on  its  way  to 
the  North  Pole. 

[96] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"That  vessel  down  there  will  give  us  a  lift  now,"  said 
North  Wind;    "and  after  that  I  must  do  the  best  I  can." 

She  managed  to  hide  him  amongst  the  flags  of  the  big 
ship,  which  were  all  snugly  stowed  away,  and  on  and  on  they 
sped  towards  the  north.  At  length  one  night  she  whispered 
in  his  ear,  "Come  on  deck,  Diamond;"  and  he  got  up  at 
once  and  crept  on  deck.  Everything  looked  very  strange. 
Here  and  there  on  all  sides  were  huge  masses  of  floating  ice, 
looking  like  cathedrals,  and  castles,  and  crags,  while  away 
beyond  was  a  blue  sea. 

"Is  the  sun  rising  or  setting?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Neither  or  both,  which  you  please.  I  can  hardly  tell 
which  myself.  If  he  is  setting  now,  he  will  be  rising  the  next 
moment." 

"What  a  strange  light  it  is!"  said  Diamond.  "I  have 
heard  that  the  sun  doesn't  go  to  bed  all  the  summer  in  these 
parts.  Miss  Coleman  told  me  that.  I  suppose  he  feels  very 
sleepy,  and  that  is  why  the  light  he  sends  out  looks  so  like 
a  dream." 

"That  will  account  for  it  well  enough  for  all  practical 
purposes,"  said  North  Wind. 

Some  of  the  icebergs  were  drifting  northward:  one  was 
passing  very  near  the  ship.  North  Wind  seized  Diamond,  and 
with  a  single  bound  lighted  on  one  of  them — a  huge  thing, 
with  sharp  pinnacles  and  great  clefts.  The  same  instant  a 
wind  began  to  blow  from  the  south.  North  Wind  hurried 
Diamond  down  the  north  side  of  the  iceberg,  stepping  by  its 
jags  and  splintering;  for  this  berg  had  never  got  far  enough 
south  to  be  melted  and  smoothed  by  the  summer  sun.     She 

[97] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

brought  him  to  a  cave  near  the  water,  where  she  entered, 
and,  letting  Diamond  go,  sat  down  as  if  weary  on  a  ledge  of 
ice. 

Diamond  seated  himself  on  the  other  side,  and  for  a  while 
was  enraptured  with  the  color  of  the  air  inside  the  cave.  It 
was  a  deep,  dazzling,  lovely  blue,  deeper  than  the  deepest 
blue  of  the  sky.  The  blue  seemed  to  be  in  constant  motion, 
like  the  blackness  when  you  press  your  eyeballs  with  your 
fingers,  boiling  and  sparkling.  But  when  he  looked  across  to 
North  Wind  he  was  frightened;   her  face  was  worn  and  livid. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  dear  North  Wind?  "  he  said. 

"  Nothing  much.  I  feel  very  faint.  But  you  mustn't  mind 
it,  for  I  can  bear  it  quite  well.  South  Wind  always  blows  me 
faint.  If  it  were  not  for  the  cool  of  the  thick  ice  between 
me  and  her,  I  should  faint  altogether.  Indeed,  as  it  is,  I  fear 
I  must  vanish." 

Diamond  stared  at  her  in  terror,  for  he  saw  that  her  form 
and  face  were  growing,  not  small,  but  transparent,  like  some- 
thing dissolving,  not  in  water,  but  in  light.  He  could  see  the 
side  of  the  blue  cave  through  her  very  heart.  And  she  melted 
away  till  all  that  was  left  was  a  pale  face,  like  the  moon  in 
the  morning,  with  two  great  lucid  eyes  in  it. 

"I  am  going,  Diamond,"  she  said. 

"Does  it  hurt  you?"  asked  Diamond. 

"It's  very  uncomfortable,"  she  answered;  "but  I  don't 
mind  it,  for  I  shall  come  all  right  again  before  long.  I  thought 
I  should  be  able  to  go  with  you  all  the  way,  but  I  cannot. 
You  must  not  be  frightened  though.  Just  go  straight  on,  and 
you  will  come  all  right.    You'll  find  me  on  the  doorstep." 

[98] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

As  she  spoke,  her  face  too  faded  quite  away,  only  Diamond 
thought  he  could  still  see  her  eyes  shining  through  the  blue. 
When  he  went  closer,  however,  he  found  that  what  he  thought 
her  eyes  were  only  two  hollows  in  the  ice.  North  Wind  was 
quite  gone;  and  Diamond  would  have  cried,  if  he  had  not 
trusted  her  so  thoroughly.  So  he  sat  still  in  the  blue  air  of 
the  cavern  listening  to  the  wash  and  ripple  of  the  water  all 
about  the  base  of  the  iceberg,  as  it  sped  on  and  on  into  the 
open  sea  northwards.  It  was  an  excellent  craft  to  go  with  a 
current,  for  there  was  twice  as  much  of  it  below  water  as 
above.  But  a  light  south  wind  was  blowing  too,  and  so  it 
went  fast. 

After  a  little  while  Diamond  went  out  and  sat  on  the  edge 
of  his  floating  island,  and  looked  down  into  the  ocean  beneath 
him.  The  white  sides  of  the  berg  reflected  so  much  light  below 
the  water,  that  he  could  see  far  down  into  the  green  abyss. 
Sometimes  he  fancied  he  saw  the  eyes  of  North  Wind  looking 
up  at  him  from  below,  but  the  fancy  never  lasted  beyond  the 
moment  of  its  birth.  And  the  time  passed  he  did  not  know 
how,  for  he  felt  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream.  When  he  got  tired 
of  the  green  water,  he  went  into  the  blue  cave;  and  when  he 
got  tired  of  the  blue  cave  he  went  out  and  gazed  all  about 
him  on  the  blue  sea,  ever  sparkling  in  the  sun,  which  kept 
wheeling  about  the  sky,  never  going  below  the  horizon.  But 
he  chiefly  gazed  northwards,  to  see  whether  any  land  were 
appearing.  All  this  time  he  never  wanted  to  eat.  He  broke 
off  little  bits  of  the  berg  now  and  then  and  sucked  them,  and 
he  thought  them  very  nice. 

At  length,  one  time  he  came  out  of  his  cave,  he  spied,  far 

[99] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

off  upon  the  horizon,  a  shining  peak  that  rose  into  the  sky  like 
the  top  of  some  tremendous  iceberg;  and  his  vessel  was  bear- 
ing him  straight  towards  it.  As  it  went  on  the  peak  rose  and 
rose  higher  and  higher  above  the  horizon;  and  other  peaks 
rose  after  it,  with  sharp  edges  and  jagged  ridges  connecting 
them.  Diamond  thought  this  must  be  the  place  he  was  going 
to;  and  he  was  right;  for  the  mountains  rose  and  rose,  till 
he  saw  the  line  of  the  coast  at  their  feet,  and  at  length  the 
iceberg  drove  into  a  little  bay,  all  round  which  were  lofty 
precipices  with  snow  on  their  tops,  and  streaks  of  ice  down 
their  sides.  The  berg  floated  slowly  up  to  a  projecting  rock. 
Diamond  stepped  on  shore,  and  without  looking  behind  him 
began  to  follow  a  natural  path  which  led  windingly  towards 
the  top  of  the  precipice. 

When  he  reached  it,  he  found  himself  on  a  broad  table  of 
ice,  along  which  he  could  walk  without  much  difficulty.  Before 
him,  at  a  considerable  distance,  rose  a  lofty  ridge  of  ice,  which 
shot  up  into  fantastic  pinnacles  and  towers  and  battlements. 
The  air  was  very  cold,  and  seemed  somehow  dead,  for  there 
was  not  the  slightest  breath  of  wind. 

In  the  centre  of  the  ridge  before  him  appeared  a  gap  like 
the  opening  of  a  valley.  But  as  he  walked  towards  it,  gazing, 
and  wondering  whether  that  could  be  the  way  he  had  to  take, 
he  saw  that  what  had  appeared  a  gap  was  the  form  of  a  woman 
seated  against  the  ice  front  of  the  ridge,  leaning  forward  with 
her  hands  in  her  lap,  and  her  hair  hanging  down  to  the  ground. 

"It  is  North  Wind  on  her  doorstep,"  said  Diamond  joy- 
fully, and  hurried  on. 

He  soon  came  up  to  the  place,  and  there  the  form  sat, 

[100] 


©DMSK 


"  Are  you  ill,  dear  North  Wind  ?  " 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

like  one  of  the  great  figures  at  the  door  of  an  Egyptian  temple, 
motionless,  with  drooping  arms  and  head.  Then  Diamond 
grew  frightened,  because  she  did  not  move  nor  speak.  He  was 
sure  it  was  North  Wind,  but  he  thought  she  must  be  dead  at 
last.  Her  face  was  white  as  the  snow,  her  eyes  were  blue  as 
the  air  in  the  ice-cave,  and  her  hair  hung  down  straight,  like 
icicles.  She  had  on  a  greenish  robe,  like  the  color  in  the 
hollows  of  a  glacier  seen  from  far  off. 

He  stood  up  before  her,  and  gazed  fearfully  into  her  face 
for  a  few  minutes  before  he  ventured  to  speak.  At  length, 
with  a  great  effort  and  a  trembling  voice,  he  faltered  out — 

"North  Wind!" 

"Well,  child?"  said  the  form,  without  lifting  its  head. 

"Are  you  ill,  dear  North  Wind?" 

"No.     I  am  waiting." 

"What  for?" 

"Till  I'm  wanted." 

"You  don't  care  for  me  any  more,"  said  Diamond,  almost 
crying  now. 

"Yes,  I  do.  Only  I  can't  show  it.  All  my  love  is  down 
at  the  bottom  of  my  heart.    But  I  feel  it  bubbling  there." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do  next,  dear  North  Wind?" 
said  Diamond,  wishing  to  show  his  love  by  being  obedient. 

"What  do  you  want  to  do  yourself?" 

"I  want  to  go  into  the  country  at  your  back." 

"Then  you  must  go  through  me." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"I  mean  just  what  I  say.  You  must  walk  on  as  if  I  were 
an  open  door,  and  go  right  through  me." 

[  101  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"But  that  will  hurt  you." 

"Not  in  the  least.    It  will  hurt  you,  though." 

"I  don't  mind  that,  if  you  tell  me  to  do  it," 

"Do  it,"  said  North  Wind. 

Diamond  walked  towards  her  instantly.  When  he  reached 
her  knees,  he  put  out  his  hand  to  lay  it  on  her,  but  nothing 
was  there  save  an  intense  cold.  He  walked  on.  Then  all  grew 
white  about  him;  and  the  cold  stung  him  like  fire.  He  walked 
on  still,  groping  through  the  whiteness.  It  thickened  about 
him.  At  last,  it  got  into  his  heart,  and  he  lost  all  sense.  I 
would  say  that  he  fainted — only  whereas  in  common  faints  all 
grows  black  about  you,  he  felt  swallowed  up  in  whiteness.  It 
was  when  he  reached  North  Wind's  heart  that  he  fainted  and 
fell.  But  as  he  fell,  he  rolled  over  the  threshold,  and  it  was 
thus  that  Diamond  got  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind. 


t  102] 


CHAPTER  X 
AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

I  HAVE  now  come  to  the  most  difficult  part  of  my  story. 
And  why?  Because  I  do  not  know  enough  about  it. 
And  why  should  I  not  know  as  much  about  this  part  as 
about  any  other  part?  for  of  course  I  could  know  nothing 
about  the  story  except  Diamond  had  told  it;  and  why  should 
not  Diamond  tell  about  the  country  at  the  back  of  the  north 
wind,  as  well  as  about  his  adventures  in  getting  there?  Be- 
cause, when  he  came  back,  he  had  forgotten  a  great  deal,  and 
what  he  did  remember  was  very  hard  to  tell.  Things  there 
are  so  different  from  things  here!  The  people  there  do  not 
speak  the  same  language  for  one  thing.  Indeed,  Diamond 
insisted  that  there  they  do  not  speak  at  all.  I  do  not  think 
he  was  right,  but  it  may  well  have  appeared  so  to  Diamond. 
The  fact  is,  we  have  different  reports  of  the  place  from  the 
most  trustworthy  people.  Therefore  we  are  bound  to  believe 
that  it  appears  somewhat  different  to  different  people.  All, 
however,  agree  in  a  general  way  about  it. 

I  will  tell  you  something  of  what  two  very  different  people 
have  reported,  both  of  whom  knew  more  about  it,  I  believe, 
than  Herodotus.  One  of  them  speaks  from  his  own  expe- 
rience, for  he  visited  the  country;  the  other  from  the  testi- 
mony of  a  young  peasant  girl  who  came  back  from  it  for  a 
month's  visit  to  her  friends.  The  former  was  a  great  Italian 
of  noble  family,  who  died  more  than  five  hundred  years  ago; 
the  latter  a  Scotch  shepherd  who  died  not  forty  years  ago. 

[  103] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  Italian,  then,  informs  us  that  he  had  to  enter  that 
country  through  a  fire  so  hot  that  he  would  have  thrown  him- 
self into  boiling  glass  to  cool  himself.  This  was  not  Diamond's 
experience,  but  then  Durante — that  was  the  name  of  the  Ital- 
ian, and  it  means  Lasting,  for  his  books  will  last  as  long  as 
there  are  enough  men  in  the  world  worthy  of  having  them — 
Durante  was  an  elderly  man,  and  Diamond  was  a  little  boy, 
and  so  their  experience  must  be  a  little  different.  The  peasant 
girl,  on  the  other  hand,  fell  fast  asleep  in  a  wood,  and  woke 
in  the  same  country. 

In  describing  it,  Durante  says  that  the  ground  everywhere 
smelt  sweetly,  and  that  a  gentle,  even-tempered  wind,  which 
never  blew  faster  or  slower,  breathed  in  his  face  as  he  went, 
making  all  the  leaves  point  one  way,  not  so  as  to  disturb  the 
birds  in  the  tops  of  the  trees,  but,  on  the  contrary,  sounding 
a  bass  to  their  song.  He  describes  also  a  little  river  which 
was  so  full  that  its  little  waves,  as  it  hurried  along,  bent  the 
grass,  full  of  red  and  yellow  flowers,  through  which  it  flowed. 
He  says  that  the  purest  stream  in  the  world  beside  this  one 
would  look  as  if  it  were  mixed  with  something  that  did  not 
belong  to  it,  even  although  it  was  flowing  ever  in  the  brown 
shadow  of  the  trees,  and  neither  sun  nor  moon  could  shine 
upon  it.  He  seems  to  imply  that  it  is  always  the  month  of 
May  in  that  country.  It  would  be  out  of  place  to  describe 
here  the  wonderful  sights  he  saw,  for  the  music  of  them  is 
in  another  key  from  that  of  this  story,  and  I  shall  therefore 
only  add  from  the  account  of  this  traveller,  that  the  people 
there  are  so  free  and  so  just  and  so  healthy,  that  every  one 
of  them  has  a  crown  like  a  king  and  a  mitre  like  a  priest. 

[104] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  peasant  girl — Kilmeny  was  her  name — could  not 
report  such  grand  things  as  Durante,  for,  as  the  shepherd 
says,  telling  her  story  as  I  tell  Diamond's — 

"Kilmeny  had  been  she  knew  not  where, 
And  Kilmeny  had  seen  what  she  could  not  declare; 
Kilmeny  had  been  where  the  cock  never  crew, 
Where  the  rain  never  fell,  and  the  wind  never  blew; 
But  it  seemed  as  the  harp  of  the  sky  had  rung, 
And  the  airs  of  heaven  played  round  her  tongue, 
When  she  spoke  of  the  lovely  forms  she  had  seen, 
And  a  land  where  sin  had  never  been; 
A  land  of  love  and  a  land  of  light, 
Withouten  sun,  or  moon,  or  night; 
Where  the  river  swayed  a  living  stream, 
And  the  light  a  pure  and  cloudless  beam: 
The  land  of  vision  it  would  seem, 
And  still  an  everlasting  dream." 

The  last  two  lines  are  the  shepherd's  own  remark,  and  a 
matter  of  opinion.  But  it  is  clear,  I  think,  that  Kilmeny 
must  have  described  the  same  country  as  Durante  saw, 
though,  not  having  his  experience,  she  could  neither  under- 
stand nor  describe  it  so  well. 

Now  I  must  give  you  such  fragments  of  recollection  as 
Diamond  was  able  to  bring  back  with  him. 

When  he  came  to  himself  after  he  fell,  he  found  himself 
at  the  back  of  the  north  wind.  North  Wind  herself  was  no- 
where to  be  seen.  Neither  was  there  a  vestige  of  snow  or  of 
ice  within  sight.  The  sun  too  had  vanished;  but  that  was 
no  matter,  for  there  was  plenty  of  a  certain  still  rayless  light. 
Where  it  came  from  he  never  found  out;  but  he  thought  it 
belonged  to  the  country  itself.     Sometimes  he  thought  it 

[105] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

came  out  of  the  flowers,  which  were  very  bright,  but  had  no 
strong  color.  He  said  the  river — for  all  agree  that  there  is  a 
river  there — flowed  not  only  through,  but  over  grass:  its 
channel,  instead  of  being  rock,  stones,  pebbles,  sand,  or  any- 
thing else,  was  o^  pure  meadow  grass,  not  over  long.  He  in- 
sisted that  if  it  did  not  sing  tunes  in  people's  ears,  it  sung 
tunes  in  their  heads,  in  proof  of  which  I  may  mention,  that, 
in  the  troubles  which  followed,  Diamond  was  often  heard  sing- 
ing; and  when  asked  what  he  was  singing,  would  answer, 
"One  of  the  tunes  the  river  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind 
sung."  And  I  may  as  well  say  at  once  that  Diamond  never 
told  these  things  to  any  one  but — no,  I  had  better  not  say 
who  it  was;  but  whoever  it  was  told  me,  and  I  thought  it 
would  be  well  to  write  them  for  my  child-readers. 

He  could  not  say  that  he  was  very  happy  there,  for  he  had 
neither  his  father  nor  mother  with  him,  but  he  felt  so  still 
and  quiet  and  patient  and  contented,  that,  as  far  as  the  mere 
feeling  went,  it  was  something  better  than  mere  happiness. 
Nothing  went  wrong  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind.  Neither 
was  anything  quite  right,  he  thought.  Only  everything  was 
going  to  be  right  some  day.  His  account  disagreed  with  that 
of  Durante,  and  agreed  with  that  of  Kilmeny,  in  this,  that 
he  protested  there  was  no  wind  there  at  all.  I  fancy  he  missed 
it.  At  all  events  we  could  not  do  without  wind.  It  all  de- 
pends on  how  big  our  lungs  are  whether  the  wind  is  too  strong 
for  us  or  not. 

When  the  person  he  told  about  it  asked  him  whether  he 
saw  anybody  he  knew  there,  he  answered,  "Only  a  little  girl 
belonging  to  the  gardener,  who  thought  he  had  lost  her,  but 

[106] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

was  quite  mistaken,  for  there  she  was  safe  enough,  and  was 
to  come  back  some  day,  as  I  came  back,  if  they  would  only 
wait." 

"Did  you  talk  to  her,  Diamond?" 

"  No.  Nobody  talks  there.  They  only  look  at  each  other, 
and  understand  everything." 

"Is  it  cold  there?" 

"No." 

"Is  it  hot?" 

"No." 

"What  is  it  then?" 

"You  never  think  about  such  things  there." 

"What  a  queer  place  it  must  be!" 

"It's  a  very  good  place." 

"Do  you  want  to  go  back  again?" 

"No:  I  don't  think  I  have  ever  left  it;  I  feel  it  here, 
somewhere." 

"Did  the  people  there  look  pleased?" 

"Yes — quite  pleased,  only  a  little  sad." 

"Then  they  didn't  look  glad?" 

"They  looked  as  if  they  were  waiting  to  be  gladder  some 
day." 

This  was  how  Diamond  used  to  answer  questions  about 
that  country.  And  now  I  will  take  up  the  story  again,  and 
tell  you  how  he  got  back  to  this  country. 


[107] 


CHAPTER  XI 
HOW  DIAMOND  GOT  HOME  AGAIN 

WHEN  one  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind  wanted 
to  know  how  things  were  going  with  any  one  he 
loved,  he  had  to  go  to  a  certain  tree,  climb  the 
stem,  and  sit  down  in  the  branches.  In  a  few  minutes,  if  he 
kept  very  still,  he  would  see  something  at  least  of  what  was 
going  on  with  the  people  he  loved. 

One  day  when  Diamond  was  sitting  in  this  tree,  he  began 
to  long  very  much  to  get  home  again,  and  no  wonder,  for 
he  saw  his  mother  crying.  Durante  says  that  the  people 
there  may  always  follow  their  wishes,  because  they  never 
wish  but  what  is  good.  Diamond's  wish  was  to  get  home, 
and  he  would  fain  follow  his  wish. 

But  how  was  he  to  set  about  it?  If  he  could  only  see 
North  Wind!  But  the  moment  he  had  got  to  her  back,  she 
was  gone  altogether  from  his  sight.  He  had  never  seen  her 
back.  She  might  be  sitting  on  her  doorstep  still,  looking 
southwards,  and  waiting,  white  and  thin  and  blue-eyed,  until 
she  was  wanted.  Or  she  might  have  again  become  a  mighty 
creature,  with  power  to  do  that  which  was  demanded  of  her, 
and  gone  far  away  upon  many  missions.  She  must  be  some- 
where, however.  He  could  not  go  home  without  her,  and 
therefore  he  must  find  her.  She  could  never  have  intended 
to  leave  him  always  away  from  his  mother.  If  there  had 
been  any  danger  of  that,  she  would  have  told  him,  and  given 

[  108  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

him  his  choice  about  going.  For  North  Wind  was  right 
honest.  How  to  find  North  Wind,  therefore,  occupied  all  his 
thoughts. 

In  his  anxiety  about  his  mother,  he  used  to  climb  the  tree 
every  day,  and  sit  in  its  branches.  However  many  of  the 
dwellers  there  did  so,  they  never  incommoded  one  another; 
for  the  moment  one  got  into  the  tree,  he  became  invisible  to 
every  one  else;  and  it  was  such  a  wide-spreading  tree  that 
there  was  room  for  every  one  of  the  people  of  the  country 
in  it,  without  the  least  interference  with  each  other.  Some- 
times, on  getting  down,  two  of  them  would  meet  at  the  root, 
and  then  they  would  smile  to  each  other  more  sweetly  than 
at  any  other  time,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Ah,  you've  been  up 
there  too!" 

One  day  he  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  outer  branches  of  the 
tree,  looking  southwards  after  his  home.  Far  away  was  a 
blue  shining  sea,  dotted  with  gleaming  and  sparkling  specks 
of  white.  Those  were  the  icebergs.  Nearer  he  saw  a  great 
range  of  snow-capped  mountains,  and  down  below  him  the 
lovely  meadow-grass  of  the  country,  with  the  stream  flowing 
and  flowing  through  it,  away  towards  the  sea.  As  he  looked 
he  began  to  wonder,  for  the  whole  country  lay  beneath  him 
like  a  map,  and  that  which  was  near  him  looked  just  as  small 
as  that  which  he  knew  to  be  miles  away.  The  ridge  of  ice 
which  encircled  it  appeared  but  a  few  yards  off,  and  no  larger 
than  the  row  of  pebbles  with  which  a  child  will  mark  out  the 
boundaries  of  the  kingdom  he  has  appropriated  on  the  sea- 
shore. He  thought  he  could  distinguish  the  vapoury  form  of 
North  Wind,  seated  as  he  had  left  her,  on  the  other  side. 

[109] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Hastily  he  descended  the  tree,  and  to  his  amazement  found 
that  the  map  or  model  of  the  country  still  lay  at  his  feet. 
He  stood  in  it.  With  one  stride  he  had  crossed  the  river; 
with  another  he  had  reached  the  ridge  of  ice;  with  the  third 
he  stepped  over  its  peaks,  and  sank  wearily  down  at  North 
Wind's  knees.  For  there  she  sat  on  her  doorstep.  The  peaks 
of  the  great  ridge  of  ice  were  as  lofty  as  ever  behind  her,  and 
the  country  at  her  back  had  vanished  from  Diamond's  view. 

North  Wind  was  as  still  as  Diamond  had  left  her.  Her 
pale  face  was  white  as  the  snow,  and  her  motionless  eyes 
were  as  blue  as  the  caverns  in  the  ice.  But  the  instant  Dia- 
mond touched  her,  her  face  began  to  change  like  that  of  one 
waking  from  sleep.  Light  began  to  glimmer  from  the  blue  of 
her  eyes.  A  moment  more,  and  she  laid  her  hand  on  Dia- 
mond's head,  and  began  playing  with  his  hair.  Diamond 
took  hold  of  her  hand,  and  laid  his  face  to  it.  She  gave  a 
little  start. 

"How  very  alive  you  are,  child!"  she  murmured,  "Come 
nearer  to  me." 

By  the  help  of  the  stones  all  around  he  clambered  up 
beside  her,  and  laid  himself  against  her  bosom.  She  gave  a 
great  sigh,  slowly  lifted  her  arms,  and  slowly  folded  them 
about  him,  until  she  clasped  him  close.  Yet  a  moment,  and 
she  roused  herself,  and  came  quite  awake;  and  the  cold  of 
her  bosom,  which  had  pierced  Diamond's  bones,  vanished. 

"Have  you  been  sitting  here  ever  since  I  went  through 
you,  dear  North  Wind?"  asked  Diamond,  stroking  her  hand. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  looking  at  him  with  her  old  kindness. 

"Ain't  you  very  tired?" 

[no] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No;  I've  often  had  to  sit  longer.  Do  you  know  how 
long  you  have  been?" 

"Oh!  years  and  years,"  answered  Diamond. 

"You  have  just  been  seven  days,"  returned  North  Wind. 

"I  thought  I  had  been  a  hundred  years!"  exclaimed 
Diamond. 

"Yes,  I  dare  say,"  replied  North  Wind.  "You've  been 
away  from  here  seven  days ;  but  how  long  you  may  have  been 
in  there  is  quite  another  thing.  Behind  my  back  and  before 
my  face  things  are  so  different!  They  don't  go  at  all  by  the 
same  rule." 

"I'm  very  glad,"  said  Diamond,  after  thinking  a  while. 

"Why?"  asked  North  Wind. 

"Because  I've  been  such  a  long  time  there,  and  such  a 
little  while  away  from  mother.  Why,  she  won't  be  expect- 
ing me  home  from  Sandwich  yet!" 

"No.  But  we  mustn't  talk  any  longer.  I've  got  my 
orders  now,  and  we  must  be  off  in  a  few  minutes." 

Next  moment  Diamond  found  himself  sitting  alone  on  the 
rock.  North  Wind  had  vanished.  A  creature  like  a  great 
humble-bee  or  cockchafer  flew  past  his  face;  but  it  could  be 
neither,  for  there  were  no  insects  amongst  the  ice.  It  passed 
him  again  and  again,  flying  in  circles  around  him,  and  he 
concluded  that  it  must  be  North  Wind  herself,  no  bigger  than 
Tom  Thumb  when  his  mother  put  him  in  the  nutshell  lined 
with  flannel.  But  she  was  no  longer  vapoury  and  thin.  She 
was  solid,  although  tiny.  A  moment  more,  and  she  perched 
on  his  shoulder. 

"Come  along,  Diamond,"  she  said  in  his  ear,  in  the  small- 

[mi 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

est  and  highest  of  treble  voices;  "it  is  time  we  were  setting 
out  for  Sandwich." 

Diamond  could  just  see  her,  by  turning  his  head  towards 
his  shoulder  as  far  as  he  could,  but  only  with  one  eye,  for 
his  nose  came  between  her  and  the  other. 

"Won't  you  take  me  in  your  arms  and  carry  me?"  he 
said  in  a  whisper,  for  he  knew  she  did  not  like  a  loud  voice 
when  she  was  small. 

"Ah!  you  ungrateful  boy,"  returned  North  Wind,  smiling, 
"how  dare  you  make  game  of  me?  Yes,  I  will  carry  you, 
but  you  shall  walk  a  bit  for  your  impertinence  first.  Come 
along." 

She  jumped  from  his  shoulder,  but  when  Diamond  looked 
for  her  upon  the  ground,  he  could  see  nothing  but  a  little 
spider  with  long  legs  that  made  its  way  over  the  ice  towards 
the  south.  It  ran  very  fast  indeed  for  a  spider,  but  Diamond 
ran  a  long  way  before  it,  and  then  waited  for  it.  It  was  up 
with  him  sooner  than  he  had  expected,  however,  and  it  had 
grown  a  good  deal.  And  the  spider  grew  and  grew  and  went 
faster  and  faster,  till  all  at  once  Diamond  discovered  that  it 
was  not  a  spider,  but  a  weasel;  and  away  glided  the  weasel, 
and  away  went  Diamond  after  it,  and  it  took  all  the  run 
there  was  in  him  to  keep  up  with  the  weasel.  And  the  weasel 
grew,  and  grew,  and  grew,  till  all  at  once  Diamond  saw  that 
the  weasel  was  not  a  weasel  but  a  cat.  And  away  went  the 
cat,  and  Diamond  after  it.  And  when  he  had  run  half  a  mile, 
he  found  the  cat  waiting  for  him,  sitting  up  and  washing  her 
face  not  to  lose  time.  And  away  went  the  cat  again,  and 
Diamond  after  it.     But  the  next  time  he  came  up  with  the 

[112] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

cat,  the  cat  was  not  a  cat,  but  a  hunting-leopard.  And  the 
hunting-leopard  grew  to  a  jaguar,  all  covered  with  spots  like 
eyes.  And  the  jaguar  grew  to  a  Bengal  tiger.  And  at  none 
of  them  was  Diamond  afraid,  for  he  had  been  at  North  Wind's 
back,  and  he  could  be  afraid  of  her  no  longer  whatever  she 
did  or  grew.  And  the  tiger  flew  over  the  snow  in  a  straight 
line  for  the  south,  growing  less  and  less  to  Diamond's  eyes 
till  it  was  only  a  black  speck  upon  the  whiteness;  and  then 
it  vanished  altogether.  And  now  Diamond  felt  that  he  would 
rather  not  run  any  farther,  and  that  the  ice  had  got  very 
rough.  Besides,  he  was  near  the  precipices  that  bounded  the 
sea,  so  he  slackened  his  pace  to  a  walk,  saying  aloud  to  him- 
self: 

"When  North  Wind  has  punished  me  enough  for  making 
game  of  her,  she  will  come  back  to  me;  I  know  she  will,  for 
I  can't  go  much  farther  without  her." 

"You  dear  boy!  It  was  only  in  fun.  Here  I  am!"  said 
North  Wind's  voice  behind  him. 

Diamond  turned,  and  saw  her  as  he  liked  best  to  see  her, 
standing  beside  him,  a  tall  lady. 

"Where's  the  tiger?"  he  asked,  for  he  knew  all  the  crea- 
tures from  a  picture  book  that  Miss  Coleman  had  given  him. 
"But,  of  course,"  he  added,  "you  were  the  tiger.  I  was 
puzzled  and  forgot.  I  saw  it  such  a  long  way  off  before  me, 
and  there  you  were  behind  me.    It's  so  odd,  you  know." 

"It  must  look  very  odd  to  you,  Diamond:  I  see  that. 
But  it  is  no  more  odd  to  me  than  to  break  an  old  pine  in 
two." 

"Well,  that's  odd  enough,"  remarked  Diamond. 

[113] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"So  it  is!  I  forgot.  Well,  none  of  these  things  are  odder 
to  me  than  it  is  to  you  to  eat  bread  and  butter." 

"Well,  that's  odd  too,  when  I  think  of  it,"  persisted  Dia- 
mond. "I  should  just  like  a  slice  of  bread  and  butter!  I'm 
afraid  to  say  how  long  it  is — how  long  it  seems  to  me,  that 
is — since  I  had  anything  to  eat." 

"Come  then,"  said  North  Wind,  stooping  and  holding  out 
her  arms.  "You  shall  have  some  bread  and  butter  very  soon. 
I  am  glad  to  find  you  want  some." 

Diamond  held  up  his  arms  to  meet  hers,  and  was  safe 
upon  her  bosom.  North  Wind  bounded  into  the  air.  Her 
tresses  began  to  lift  and  rise  and  spread  and  stream  and  flow 
and  flutter;  and  with  a  roar  from  her  hair  and  an  answering 
roar  from  one  of  the  great  glaciers  beside  them,  whose  slow 
torrent  tumbled  two  or  three  icebergs  at  once  into  the  waves 
at  their  feet,  North  Wind  and  Diamond  went  flying  south- 
wards. 


[114] 


CHAPTER  XII 
WHO  MET  DIAMOND  AT  SANDWICH 

AS  they  flew,  so  fast  they  went  that  the  sea  slid  away 
ZjL  from  under  them  like  a  great  web  of  shot  silk,  blue 
■^  -*-  shot  with  grey,  and  green  shot  with  purple.  They 
went  so  fast  that  the  stars  themselves  appeared  to  sail  away 
past  them  overhead,  "like  golden  boats,"  on  a  blue  sea  turned 
upside  down.  And  they  went  so  fast  that  Diamond  himself 
went  the  other  way  as  fast — I  mean  he  went  fast  asleep  in 
North  Wind's  arms. 

When  he  woke,  a  face  was  bending  over  him;  but  it  was 
not  North  Wind's;  it  was  his  mother's.  He  put  out  his  arms 
to  her,  and  she  clasped  him  to  her  bosom  and  burst  out  cry- 
ing. Diamond  kissed  her  again  and  again  to  make  her  stop. 
Perhaps  kissing  is  the  best  thing  for  crying,  but  it  will  not 
always  stop  it. 

"What  is  the  matter,  mother?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  Diamond,  my  darling!  you  have  been  so  ill!"  she 
sobbed. 

"No,  mother  dear.  I've  only  been  at  the  back  of  the 
north  wind,"  returned  Diamond. 

"I  thought  you  were  dead,"  said  his  mother. 

But  that  moment  the  doctor  came  in. 

"Oh!  there!"  said  the  doctor  with  gentle  cheerfulness; 

"we're  better  to-day,  I  see." 

[115] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Then  he  drew  the  mother  aside,  and  told  her  not  to  talk 
to  Diamond,  or  to  mind  what  he  might  say;  for  he  must  be 
kept  as  quiet  as  possible.  And  indeed  Diamond  was  not  much 
inclined  to  talk,  for  he  felt  very  strange  and  weak,  which  was 
little  wonder,  seeing  that  all  the  time  he  had  been  away  he 
had  only  sucked  a  few  lumps  of  ice,  and  there  could  not  be 
much  nourishment  in  them. 

Now  while  he  is  lying  there,  getting  strong  again  with 
chicken  broth  and  other  nice  things,  I  will  tell  my  readers 
what  had  been  taking  place  at  his  home,  for  they  ought  to 
be  told  it. 

They  may  have  forgotten  that  Miss  Coleman  was  in  a 
very  poor  state  of  health.  Now  there  were  three  reasons  for 
this.  In  the  first  place,  her  lungs  were  not  strong.  In  the 
second  place,  there  was  a  gentleman  somewhere  who  had  not 
behaved  very  well  to  her.  In  the  third  place,  she  had  not  any- 
thing particular  to  do.  These  three  nots  together  are  enough 
to  make  a  lady  very  ill  indeed.  Of  course  she  could  not  help 
the  first  cause;  but  if  the  other  two  causes  had  not  existed, 
that  would  have  been  of  little  consequence;  she  would  only 
have  had  to  be  a  little  careful.  The  second  she  could  not 
help  quite;  but  if  she  had  had  anything  to  do,  and  had  done 
it  well,  it  would  have  been  very  difficult  for  any  man  to  be- 
have badly  to  her.  And  for  this  third  cause  of  her  illness,  if 
she  had  had  anything  to  do  that  was  worth  doing,  she  might 
have  borne  his  bad  behavior  so  that  even  that  would  not 
have  made  her  ill.  It  is  not  always  easy,  I  confess,  to  find 
something  to  do  that  is  worth  doing,  but  the  most  difficult 
things  are  constantly  being  done,  and  she  might  have  found 

[116] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

something  if  she  had  tried.  Her  fault  lay  in  this,  that  she 
had  not  tried.  But,  to  be  sure,  her  father  and  mother  were 
to  blame  that  they  had  never  set  her  going.  Only  then  again, 
nobody  had  told  her  father  and  mother  that  they  ought  to 
set  her  going  in  that  direction.  So  as  none  of  them  would 
find  it  out  of  themselves,  North  Wind  had  to  teach  them. 

We  know  that  North  Wind  was  very  busy  that  night  on 
which  she  left  Diamond  in  the  cathedral.  She  had  in  a  sense 
been  blowing  through  and  through  the  Colemans'  house  the 
whole  of  the  night.  First,  Miss  Coleman's  maid  had  left  a 
chink  of  her  mistress's  window  open,  thinking  she  had  shut 
it,  and  North  Wind  had  wound  a  few  of  her  hairs  round  the 
lady's  throat.  She  was  considerably  worse  the  next  morning. 
Again,  the  ship  which  North  Wind  had  sunk  that  very  night 
belonged  to  Mr.  Coleman.  Nor  will  my  readers  understand 
what  a  heavy  loss  this  was  to  him  until  I  have  informed  them 
that  he  had  been  getting  poorer  and  poorer  for  some  time. 
He  was  not  so  successful  in  his  speculations  as  he  had  been, 
for  he  speculated  a  great  deal  more  than  was  right,  and  it 
was  time  he  should  be  pulled  up.  It  is  a  hard  thing  for  a  rich 
man  to  grow  poor;  but  it  is  an  awful  thing  for  him  to  grow 
dishonest,  and  some  kinds  of  speculation  lead  a  man  deep 
into  dishonesty  before  he  thinks  what  he  is  about.  Poverty 
will  not  make  a  man  worthless — he  may  be  worth  a  great  deal 
more  when  he  is  poor  than  he  was  when  he  was  rich;  but 
dishonesty  goes  very  far  indeed  to  make  a  man  of  no  value — 
a  thing  to  be  thrown  out  in  the  dust-hole  of  the  creation, 
like  a  bit  of  a  broken  basin,  or  a  dirty  rag.  So  North  Wind 
had  to  look  after  Mr.  Coleman,  and  try  to  make  an  honest 

[117] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

man  of  him.  So  she  sank  the  ship  which  was  his  last  ven- 
ture, and  he  was  what  himself  and  his  wife  and  the  world 
called  ruined. 

Nor  was  this  all  yet.  For  on  board  that  vessel  Miss  Cole- 
man's lover  was  a  passenger;  and  when  the  news  came  that 
the  vessel  had  gone  down,  and  that  all  on  board  had  perished, 
we  may  be  sure  she  did  not  think  the  loss  of  their  fine  house 
and  garden  and  furniture  the  greatest  misfortune  in  the  world. 

Of  course,  the  trouble  did  not  end  with  Mr.  Coleman  and 
his  family.  Nobody  can  suffer  alone.  When  the  cause  of 
suffering  is  most  deeply  hidden  in  the  heart,  and  nobody 
knows  anything  about  it  but  the  man  himself,  he  must  be 
a  great  and  a  good  man  indeed,  such  as  few  of  us  have  known, 
if  the  pain  inside  him  does  not  make  him  behave  so  as  to 
cause  all  about  him  to  be  more  or  less  uncomfortable.  But 
when  a  man  brings  money-troubles  on  himself  by  making 
haste  to  be  rich,  then  most  of  the  people  he  has  to  do  with 
must  suffer  in  the  same  way  with  himself.  The  elm-tree  which 
North  Wind  blew  down  that  very  night,  as  if  small  and  great 
trials  were  to  be  gathered  in  one  heap,  crushed  Miss  Cole- 
man's pretty  summer-house:  just  so  the  fall  of  Mr.  Coleman 
crushed  the  little  family  that  lived  over  his  coach-house  and 
stable.  Before  Diamond  was  well  enough  to  be  taken  home, 
there  was  no  home  for  him  to  go  to.  Mr,  Coleman — or  his 
creditors,  for  I  do  not  know  the  particulars — had  sold  house, 
carriage,  horses,  furniture,  and  everything.  He  and  his  wife 
and  daughter  and  Mrs.  Crump  had  gone  to  live  in  a  small 
house  in  Hoxton,  where  he  would  be  unknown,  and  whence  he 
could  walk  to  his  place  of  business  in  the  City.    For  he  was 

[118] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

not  an  old  man,  and  hoped  yet  to  retrieve  his  fortunes.  Let 
us  hope  that  he  lived  to  retrieve  his  honesty,  the  tail  of  which 
had  slipped  through  his  fingers  to  the  very  last  joint,  if  not 
beyond  it. 

Of  course,  Diamond's  father  had  nothing  to  do  for  a  time, 
but  it  was  not  so  hard  for  him  to  have  nothing  to  do  as  it 
was  for  Miss  Coleman.  He  wrote  to  his  wife  that,  if  her  sister 
would  keep  her  there  till  he  got  a  place,  it  would  be  better 
for  them,  and  he  would  be  greatly  obliged  to  her.  Mean- 
time, the  gentleman  who  had  bought  the  house  had  allowed 
his  furniture  to  remain  where  it  was  for  a  little  while. 

Diamond's  aunt  was  quite  willing  to  keep  them  as  long  as 
she  could.  And  indeed  Diamond  was  not  yet  well  enough  to 
be  moved  with  safety. 

When  he  had  recovered  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  go  out,  one 
day  his  mother  got  her  sister's  husband,  who  had  a  little 
pony-cart,  to  cany  them  down  to  the  sea-shore,  and  leave 
them  there  for  a  few  hours.  He  had  some  business  to  do 
further  on  at  Ramsgate,  and  would  pick  them  up  as  he  re- 
turned. A  whiff  of  the  sea-air  would  do  them  both  good,  she 
said,  and  she  thought  besides  she  could  best  tell  Diamond  what 
had  happened  if  she  had  him  quite  to  herself. 


[119] 


CHAPTER  XIII 
THE  SEASIDE 

DIAMOND  and  his  mother  sat  down  upon  the  edge 
of  the  rough  grass  that  bordered  the  sand.  The  sun 
was  just  far  enough  past  its  highest  not  to  shine  in 
their  eyes  when  they  looked  eastward.  A  sweet  little  wind 
blew  on  their  left  side,  and  comforted  the  mother  without 
letting  her  know  what  it  was  that  comforted  her.  Away 
before  them  stretched  the  sparkling  waters  of  the  ocean,  every 
wave  of  which  flashed  out  its  own  delight  back  in  the  face  of 
the  great  sun,  which  looked  down  from  the  stillness  of  its 
blue  house  with  gloriously  silent  face  upon  its  flashing  chil- 
dren. On  each  hand  the  shore  rounded  outwards,  forming  a 
little  bay.  There  were  no  white  cliffs  here,  as  further  north 
and  south,  and  the  place  was  rather  dreary,  but  the  sky  got 
at  them  so  much  the  better.  Not  a  house,  not  a  creature  was 
within  sight.  Dry  sand  was  about  their  feet,  and  under  them 
thin  wiry  grass,  that  just  managed  to  grow  out  of  the  poverty- 
stricken  shore. 

"Oh  dear!"  said  Diamond's  mother,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
"it's  a  sad  world!" 

"Is  it?"  said  Diamond;    "I  didn't  know." 

"How  should  you  know,  child?  You've  been  too  well 
taken  care  of,  I  trust." 

"Oh  yes,  I  have,"  returned  Diamond.  "I'm  so  sorry!  I 
thought  you  were  taken  care  of  too.     I  thought  my  father 

[120] 


:<%eV?V  --M 


"  Dear  boy  !  "   said  his  mother  ;   "  vour  father's  the  best  man 

in  the  world." 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

took  care  of  you.    I  will  ask  him  about  it.    I  think  he  must 
have  forgotten." 

"Dear  boy!"  said  his  mother;  "your  father's  the  best  man 
in  the  world." 

"So  I  thought!"  returned  Diamond  with  triumph.  "I 
was  sure  of  it! — Well,  doesn't  he  take  very  good  care  of 
you? 

"Yes,  yes,  he  does,"  answered  his  mother,  bursting  into 
tears.  "But  who's  to  take  care  of  him?  And  how  is  he  to 
take  care  of  us  if  he's  got  nothing  to  eat  himself?" 

"Oh  dear!"  said  Diamond  with  a  gasp;  "hasn't  he  got 
anything  to  eat?    Oh!  I  must  go  home  to  him." 

"No,  no,  child.  He's  not  come  to  that  yet.  But  what's 
to  become  of  us,  I  don't  know." 

"Are  you  very  hungry,  mother?  There's  the  basket.  I 
thought  you  put  something  to  eat  in  it." 

"O  you  darling  stupid!  I  didn't  say  I  was  hungry,"  re- 
turned his  mother,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

"Then  I  don't  understand  you  at  all,"  said  Diamond. 
"Do  tell  me  what's  the  matter." 

"There  are  people  in  the  world  who  have  nothing  to  eat, 
Diamond." 

"Then  I  suppose  they  don't  stop  in  it  any  longer.  They 
— they — what  you  call — die — don't  they?" 

"Yes,  they  do.     How  would  you  like  that?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  never  tried.  But  I  suppose  they  go 
where  they  get  something  to  eat." 

"Like  enough  they  don't  want  it,"  said  his  mother, 
petulantly. 

[121] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"That's  all  right  then/'  said  Diamond,  thinking  I  dare 
say  more  than  he  chose  to  put  in  words. 

"Is  it  though?  Poor  boy!  how  little  you  know  about 
things !  Mr.  Coleman's  lost  all  his  money,  and  your  father  has 
nothing  to  do,  and  we  shall  have  nothing  to  eat  by  and  by." 

"Are  you  sure,  mother?" 

"Sure  of  what?" 

"Sure  that  we  shall  have  nothing  to  eat." 

"No,  thank  Heaven!  I'm  not  sure  of  it.    I  hope  not." 

"Then  I  can't  understand  it,  mother.  There's  a  piece  of 
gingerbread  in  the  basket,  I  know." 

"O  you  little  bird!  You  have  no  more  sense  than  a  spar- 
row that  picks  what  it  wants,  and  never  thinks  of  the  winter 
and  the  frost  and  the  snow." 

"Ah — yes — I  see.  But  the  birds  get  through  the  winter, 
don't  they?" 

"Some  of  them  fall  dead  on  the  ground." 

"They  must  die  some  time.  They  wouldn't  like  to  be 
birds  always.    Would  you,  mother?" 

"What  a  child  it  is!"  thought  his  mother,  but  she  said 
nothing. 

"Oh!  now  I  remember,"  Diamond  went  on.  "Father  told 
me  that  day  I  went  to  Epping  Forest  with  him,  that  the  rose- 
bushes, and  the  may-bushes,  and  the  holly-bushes  were  the 
birds'  barns,  for  there  were  the  hips,  and  the  haws:  and  the 
holly-berries,  all  ready  for  the  winter." 

"Yes;  that's  all  very  true.  So  you  see  the  birds  are  pro- 
vided for.  But  there  are  no  such  barns  for  you  and  me, 
Diamond." 

[122] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Ain't  there?" 

"No.     We've  got  to  work  for  our  bread." 

"Then  let's  go  and  work,"  said  Diamond,  getting  up. 

"It's  no  use.    We've  not  got  anything  to  do." 

"Then  let's  wait." 

"Then  we  shall  starve." 

"No.  There's  the  basket.  Do  you  know,  mother,  I  think 
I  shall  call  that  basket  the  barn." 

"It's  not  a  very  big  one.  And  when  it's  empty — where 
are  we  then?" 

"At  auntie's  cupboard,"  returned  Diamond  promptly. 

"But  we  can't  eat  auntie's  things  all  up  and  leave  her  to 
starve." 

"  No,  no.  We'll  go  back  to  father  before  that.  He'll  have 
found  a  cupboard  somewhere  by  that  time." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"I  don't  know  it.  But  I  haven't  got  even  a  cupboard, 
and  I've  always  had  plenty  to  eat.  I've  heard  you  say  I  had 
too  much,  sometimes." 

"But  I  tell  you  that's  because  I've  had  a  cupboard  for 
you,  child." 

"And  when  yours  was  empty,  auntie  opened  hers." 

"But  that  can't  go  on." 

"How  do  you  know?  I  think  there  must  be  a  big  cup- 
board somewhere,  out  of  which  the  little  cupboards  are  filled, 
you  know,  mother." 

"Well,  I  wish  I  could  find  the  door  of  that  cupboard," 
said  his  mother.  But  the  same  moment  she  stopped,  and 
was  silent  for  a  good  while.    I  cannot  tell  whether  Diamond 

[123] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

knew  what  she  was  thinking,  but  I  think  I  know.  She  had 
heard  something  at  church  the  day  before,  which  came  back 
upon  her — something  like  this,  that  she  hadn't  to  eat  for 
to-morrow  as  well  as  for  to-day;  and  that  what  was  not 
wanted  couldn't  be  missed.  So,  instead  of  saying  anything 
more,  she  stretched  out  her  hand  for  the  basket,  and  she  and 
Diamond  had  their  dinner. 

And  Diamond  did  enjoy  it.  For  the  drive  and  the  fresh 
air  had  made  him  quite  hungry;  and  he  did  not,  like  his 
mother,  trouble  himself  about  what  they  should  dine  off  that 
day  week.  The  fact  was  he  had  lived  so  long  without  any 
food  at  all  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind,  that  he  knew  quite 
well  that  food  was  not  essential  to  existence;  that  in  fact, 
under  certain  circumstances,  people  could  live  without  it 
well  enough. 

His  mother  did  not  speak  much  during  their  dinner.  After 
it  was  over  she  helped  him  to  walk  about  a  little,  but  he  was 
not  able  for  much  and  soon  got  tired.  He  did  not  get  fretful, 
though.  He  was  too  glad  of  having  the  sun  and  the  wind 
again,  to  fret  because  he  could  not  run  about.  He  lay  down 
on  the  dry  sand,  and  his  mother  covered  him  with  a  shawl. 
She  then  sat  by  his  side,  and  took  a  bit  of  work  from  her 
pocket.  But  Diamond  felt  rather  sleepy,  and  turned  on  his 
side  and  gazed  sleepily  over  the  sand.  A  few  yards  off  he  saw 
something  fluttering. 

"What  is  that,  mother?"  he  said. 

"Only  a  bit  of  paper,"  she  answered. 

"It  flutters  more  than  a  bit  of  paper  would,  I  think," 
said  Diamond. 

[  124] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I'll  go  and  see  if  you  like,"  said  his  mother.  "My  eyes 
are  none  of  the  best." 

So  she  rose  and  went  and  found  that  they  were  both  right, 
for  it  was  a  little  book,  partly  buried  in  the  sand.  But  sev- 
eral of  its  leaves  were  clear  of  the  sand,  and  these  the  wind 
kept  blowing  about  in  a  very  flutterful  manner.  She  took  it 
up  and  brought  it  to  Diamond. 

"What  is  it,  mother?"  he  asked. 

"Some  nursery  rhymes,  I  think,"  she  answered. 

"I'm  too  sleepy,"  said  Diamond.  "Do  read  some  of 
them  to  me." 

"Yes,  I  will,"  she  said,  and  began  one. — "But  this  is 
such  nonsense!"  she  said  again.  "I  will  try  to  find  a  better 
one. 

She  turned  the  leaves  searching,  but  three  times,  with  sud- 
den puffs,  the  wind  blew  the  leaves  rustling  back  to  the  same 
verses. 

"Do  read  that  one,"  said  Diamond,  who  seemed  to  be  of 
the  same  mind  as  the  wind.  "It  sounded  very  nice.  I  am 
sure  it  is  a  good  one." 

So  his  mother  thought  it  might  amuse  him,  though  she 
couldn't  find  any  sense  in  it.  She  never  thought  he  might 
understand  it,  although  she  could  not. 

Now  I  do  not  exactly  know  what  the  mother  read,  but 
this  is  what  Diamond  heard,  or  thought  afterwards  that  he 
had  heard.  He  was,  however  as  I  have  said,  very  sleepy, 
and  when  he  thought  he  understood  the  verses  he  may 
have  been  only  dreaming  better  ones.  This  is  how  they 
went — 

[125] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

I  know  a  river 

whose  waters  run  asleep 

run  run  ever 

singing  in  the  shallows 

dumb  in  the  hollows 

sleeping  so  deep 

and  all  the  swallows 

that  dip  their  feathers 

in  the  hollows 

or  in  the  shallows 

are  the  merriest  swallows  of  all 

for  the  nests  they  bake 

with  the  clay  they  cake 

with  the  water  they  shake 

from  their  wings  that  rake 

the  water  out  of  the  shallows 

or  the  hollows 

will  hold  together 

in  any  weather 

and  so  the  swallows 

are  the  merriest  fellows 

and  have  the  merriest  children 

and  are  built  so  narrow 

like  the  head  of  an  arrow 

to  cut  the  air 

and  go  just  where 

the  nicest  water  is  flowing 

and  the  nicest  Just  is  blowing 

for  each  so  narrow 

like  head  of  an  arrow 

is  only  a  barrow 

to  carry  the  mud  he  makes 

from  the  nicest  water  flowing 

and  the  nicest  dust  that  is  blowing 

to  build  his  nest 

for  her  he  loves  best 

with  the  nicest  cakes 

which  the  sunshine  bakes 

all  for  their  merry  children 

all  so  callow 

with  beaks  that  follow 

gaping  and  hollow 

[126] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

wider  and  wider 

after  their  father 

or  after  their  mother 

the  food-provider 

who  brings  them  a  spider 

or  a  worm  the  poor  hider 

down  in  the  earth 

so  there's  no  dearth 

for  their  beaks  as  yellow 

as  the  buttercups  growing 

beside  the  flowing 

of  the  singing  river 

always  and  ever 

growing  and  blowing 

for  fast  as  the  sheep 

awake  or  asleep 

crop  them  and  crop  them 

they  cannot  stop  them 

but  up  they  creep 

and  on  they  go  blowing 

and  so  with  the  daisies 

the  little  white  praises 

they  grow  and  they  blow 

and  they  spread  out  their  crown 

and  they  praise  the  sun 

and  when  he  goes  down 

their  praising  is  done 

and  they  fold  up  their  crown 

and  they  sleep  every  one 

till  over  the  plain 

he's  shining  amain 

and  they're  at  it  again 

praising  and  praising 

such  low  songs  raising 

that  no  one  hears  them 

but  the  sun  who  rears  them 

and  the  sheep  that  bite  them 

are  the  quietest  sheep 

awake  or  asleep 

with  the  merriest  bleat 

and  the  little  lambs 

are  the  merriest  lambs 

[  127] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

they  forget  to  eat 

for  the  frolic  in  their  feet 

and  the  lambs  and  their  dams 

are  the  whitest  sheep 

with  the  woolliest  wool 

and  the  longest  wool 

and  the  trailingest  tails 

and  they  shine  like  snow 

in  the  grasses  that  grow 

by  the  singing  river 

that  sings  for  ever 

and  the  sheep  and  the  lambs 

are  merry  for  ever 

because  the  river 

sings  and  they  drink  it 

and  the  lambs  and  their  dams 

are  quiet 

and  white 

because  of  their  diet 

for  what  they  bite 

is  buttercups  yellow 

and  daisies  white 

and  grass  as  green 

as  the  river  can  make  it 

with  wind  as  mellow 

to  kiss  it  and  shake  it 

as  never  was  seen 

but  here  in  the  hollows 

beside  the  river 

where  all  the  swallows 

are  merriest  of  fellows 

for  the  nests  they  make 

with  the  clay  they  cake 

in  the  sunshine  bake 

till  they  are  like  bone 

as  dry  in  the  wind 

as  a  marble  stone 

so  firm  they  bind 

the  grass  in  the  clay 

that  dries  in  the  wind 

the  sweetest  wind 

that  blows  by  the  river 

[128] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

flowing  for  ever 
but  never  you  find 
whence  conies  the  wind 
that  blows  on  the  hollows 
and  over  the  shallows 
where  dip  the  swallows 
alive  it  blows 
the  life  as  it  goes 
awake  or  asleep 
into  the  river 
that  sings  as  it  flows 
and  the  life  it  blows 
into  the  sheep 
awake  or  asleep 
with  the  woolliest  wool 
and  the  trailingest  tails 
and  it  never  fails 
gentle  and  cool 
to  wave  the  wool 
and  to  toss  the  grass 
as  the  lambs  and  the  sheep 
over  it  pass 
and  tug  and  bite 
with  their  teeth  so  white 
and  then  with  the  sweep 
of  their  trailing  tails 
smooth  it  again 
and  it  grows  amain 
and  amain  it  grows 
and  the  wind  as  it  blows 
tosses  the  swallows 
over  the  hollows 
and  down  on  the  shallows 
till  every  feather 
doth  shake  and  quiver 
and  all  their  feathers 
go  all  together 
blowing  the  life 
and  the  joy  so  rife 
into  the  swallows 
that  skim  the  shallows 
and  have  the  yellowest  children 
[  129] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

for  the  wind  that  blows 

is  the  life  of  the  river 

flowing  for  ever 

that  washes  the  grasses 

still  as  it  passes 

and  feeds  the  daisies 

the  little  white  praises 

and  buttercups  bonny 

so  golden  and  sunny 

with  butter  and  honey 

that  whiten  the  sheep 

awake  or  asleep 

that  nibble  and  bite 

and  grow  whiter  than  white 

and  merry  and  quiet 

on  the  sweet  diet 

fed  by  the  river 

and  tossed  for  ever 

by  the  wind  that  tosses 

the  swallow  that  crosses 

over  the  shallows 

dipping  his  wings 

to  gather  the  water 

and  bake  the  cake 

that  the  wind  shall  make 

as  hard  as  a  bone 

as  dry  as  a  stone 

it's  all  in  the  wind 

that  blows  from  behind 

and  all  in  the  river 

that  flows  for  ever 

and  all  in  the  grasses 

and  the  white  daisies 

and  the  merry  sheep 

awake  or  asleep 

and  the  happy  swallows 

skimming  the  shallows 

and  it's  all  in  the  wind 

that  blows  from  behind 

Here  Diamond  became  aware  that  his  mother  had  stopped 

reading. 

[  130] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Why  don't  you  go  on,  mother  dear?"  he  asked. 

"  It's  such  nonsense ! "  said  his  mother.  "  I  believe  it  would 
go  on  for  ever." 

"That's  just  what  it  did,"  said  Diamond. 

"What  did?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  the  river.  That's  almost  the  very  tune  it  used  to 
sing." 

His  mother  was  frightened,  for  she  thought  the  fever  was 
coming  on  again.     So  she  did  not  contradict  him. 

"Wfho  made  that  poem?"  asked  Diamond. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "Some  silly  woman  for 
her  children,  I  suppose — and  then  thought  it  good  enough  to 
print." 

"She  must  have  been  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind  some 
time  or  other,  anyhow,"  said  Diamond.  "She  couldn't  have 
got  a  hold  of  it  anywhere  else.  That's  just  how  it  went." 
And  he  began  to  chant  bits  of  it  here  and  there;  but  his 
mother  said  nothing  for  fear  of  making  him  worse;  and  she 
was  very  glad  indeed  when  she  saw  her  brother-in-law  jog- 
ging along  in  his  little  cart.  They  lifted  Diamond  in,  and 
got  up  themselves,  and  away  they  went,  "home  again,  home 
again,  home  again,"  as  Diamond  sang.  But  he  soon  grew 
quiet,  and  before  they  reached  Sandwich  he  was  fast  asleep 
and  dreaming  of  the  country  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind. 


[131] 


CHAPTER  XIV 
OLD  DIAMOND 

A  FTER  this  Diamond  recovered  so  fast,  that  in  a  few 
/-%  days  he  was  quite  able  to  go  home  as  soon  as  his 
•^  -^  father  had  a  place  for  them  to  go  to.  Now  his  father 
having  saved  a  little  money,  and  finding  that  no  situation 
offered  itself,  had  been  thinking  over  a  new  plan.  A  strange 
occurrence  it  was  which  turned  his  thoughts  in  that  direction. 
He  had  a  friend  in  the  Bloomsbury  region,  who  lived  by  let- 
ting out  cabs  and  horses  to  the  cabmen.  This  man,  happen- 
ing to  meet  him  one  day  as  he  was  returning  from  an  unsuc- 
cessful application,  said  to  him: 

"Why  don't  you  set  up  for  yourself  now — in  the  cab  line, 
I  mean?" 

"I  haven't  enough  for  that,"  answered  Diamond's  father. 

"You  must  have  saved  a  goodish  bit,  I  should  think.  Just 
come  home  with  me  now  and  look  at  a  horse  I  can  let  you 
have  cheap.  I  bought  him  only  a  few  weeks  ago,  thinking 
he'd  do  for  a  Hansom,  but  I  was  wrong.  He's  got  bone  enough 
for  a  waggon,  but  a  waggon  ain't  a  Hansom.  He  ain't  got  go 
enough  for  a  Hansom.  You  see  parties  as  takes  Hansoms 
wants  to  go  like  the  wind,  and  he  ain't  got  wind  enough,  for 
he  ain't  so  young  as  he  once  was.  But  for  a  four-wheeler  as 
takes  families  and  their  luggages,  he's  the  very  horse.  He'd 
carry  a  small  house  any  day.  I  bought  him  cheap,  and  I'll 
sell  him  cheap." 

[  132] 


XT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  him,"  said  Diamond's  father.  "A  body 
must  have  time  to  think  over  an  affair  of  so  much  importance. 
And  there's  the  cab  too.  That  would  come  to  a  deal  of 
money." 

"I  could  fit  you  there,  I  dare  say,"  said  his  friend.  "But 
come  and  look  at  the  animal,  anyhow." 

"Since  I  lost  my  own  old  pair,  as  was  Mr.  Coleman's," 
said  Diamond's  father,  turning  to  accompany  the  cab-master, 
"I  ain't  almost  got  the  heart  to  look  a  horse  in  the  face.  It's 
a  thousand  pities  to  part  man  and  horse." 

"So  it  is,"  returned  his  friend  sympathetically. 

But  what  was  the  ex-coachman's  delight,  when,  on  going 
into  the  stable  where  his  friend  led  him,  he  found  the  horse 
he  wanted  him  to  buy  was  no  other  than  his  own  old  Dia- 
mond, grown  very  thin  and  bony  and  long-legged,  as  if  they 
had  been  doing  what  they  could  to  fit  him  for  Hansom  work! 

"He  ain't  a  Hansom  horse,"  said  Diamond's  father  in- 
dignantly. 

"Well,  you're  right.  He  ain't  handsome,  but  he's  a  good 
un,"  said  his  owner. 

"Who  says  he  ain't  handsome?  He's  one  of  the  hand- 
somest horses  a  gentleman's  coachman  ever  druv,"  said  Dia- 
mond's father;  remarking  to  himself  under  his  breath — 
"thought  I  says  it  as  shouldn't" — for  he  did  not  feel  inclined 
all  at  once  to  confess  that  his  own  old  horse  could  have  sunk 
so  low. 

"Well,"  said  his  friend,  "all  I  say  is — There's  a  animal 
for  you,  as  strong  as  a  church;  an'  '11  go  like  a  train,  leastways 
a  parly,"  he  added,  correcting  himself. 

[133] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

But  the  coachman  had  a  lump  in  his  throat  and  tears  in 
his  eyes.  For  the  old  horse,  hearing  his  voice,  had  turned 
his  long  neck,  and  when  his  old  friend  went  up  to  him  and 
laid  his  hand  on  his  side,  he  whinnied  for  joy,  and  laid  his  big 
head  on  his  master's  breast.  This  settled  the  matter.  The 
coachman's  arms  were  round  the  horse's  neck  in  a  moment, 
and  he  fairly  broke  down  and  cried.  The  cab-master  had 
never  been  so  fond  of  a  horse  himself  as  to  hug  him  like  that, 
but  he  saw  in  a  moment  how  it  was.  And  he  must  have  been 
a  good-hearted  fellow,  for  I  never  heard  of  such  an  idea  com- 
ing into  the  head  of  any  other  man  with  a  horse  to  sell:  in- 
stead of  putting  something  on  to  the  price  because  he  was 
now  pretty  sure  of  selling  him,  he  actually  took  a  pound  off 
what  he  had  meant  to  ask  for  him,  saying  to  himself  it  was 
a  shame  to  part  old  friends. 

Diamond's  father,  as  soon  as  he  came  to  himself,  turned 
and  asked  how  much  he  wanted  for  the  horse. 

"I  see  you're  old  friends,"  said  the  owner. 

"It's  my  own  old  Diamond.  I  liked  him  far  the  best  of 
the  pair,  though  the  other  was  good.  You  ain't  got  him  too, 
have  you?" 

"No;   nothing  in  the  stable  to  match  him  there." 

"I  believe  you,"  said  the  coachman.  "But  you'll  be 
wanting  a  long  price  for  him,  I  know." 

"No,  not  so  much.  I  bought  him  cheap,  and  as  I  say,  he 
ain't  for  my  work." 

The  end  of  it  was  that  Diamond's  father  bought  old  Dia- 
mond again,  along  with  a  four-wheeled  cab.  And  as  there 
were  some  rooms  to  be  had  over  the  stable,  he  took  them, 
wrote  to  his  wife  to  come  home,  and  set  up  as  a  cabman. 

[  134] 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  MEWS 

IT  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Diamond  and  his  mother 
and  the  baby  reached  London.  I  was  so  full  of  Diamond 
that  I  forgot  to  tell  you  a  baby  had  arrived  in  the  mean- 
time. His  father  was  waiting  for  them  with  his  own  cab, 
but  they  had  not  told  Diamond  who  the  horse  was;  for  his 
father  wanted  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  his  surprise  when  he 
found  it  out.  He  got  in  with  his  mother  without  looking  at 
the  horse,  and  his  father  having  put  up  Diamond's  carpet- 
bag and  his  mother's  little  trunk,  got  upon  the  box  himself 
and  drove  off;  and  Diamond  was  quite  proud  of  riding  home 
in  his  father's  own  carriage.  But  when  he  got  to  the  mews, 
he  could  not  help  being  a  little  dismayed  at  first;  and  if  he 
had  never  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,  I  am  afraid 
he  would  have  cried  a  little.  But  instead  of  that,  he  said  to 
himself  it  was  a  fine  thing  all  the  old  furniture  was  there. 
And  instead  of  helping  his  mother  to  be  miserable  at  the 
change,  he  began  to  find  out  all  the  advantages  of  the  place; 
for  every  place  has  some  advantages,  and  they  are  always 
better  worth  knowing  than  the  disadvantages.  Certainly  the 
weather  was  depressing,  for  a  thick  dull  persistent  rain  was 
falling  by  the  time  they  reached  home.  But  happily  the 
weather  is  very  changeable;  and  besides,  there  was  a  good 
fire  burning  in  the  room,  which  their  neighbor  with  the 
drunken  husband  had  attended  to  for  them;    and  the  tea- 

[135] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

things  were  put  out,  and  the  kettle  was  boiling  on  the  fire. 
And  with  a  good  fire,  and  tea  and  bread  and  butter,  thing* 
cannot  be  said  to  be  miserable. 

Diamond's  father  and  mother  were,  notwithstanding, 
rather  miserable,  and  Diamond  began  to  feel  a  kind  of  dark- 
ness beginning  to  spread  over  his  own  mind.  But  the  same 
moment  he  said  to  himself,  "This  will  never  do.  I  can't  give 
in  to  this.  I've  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind.  Things 
go  right  there,  and  so  I  must  try  to  get  things  to  go  right 
here.  I've  got  to  fight  the  miserable  things.  They  shan't 
make  me  miserable  if  I  can  help  it."  I  do  not  mean  that  he 
thought  these  very  words.  They  are  perhaps  too  grown-up 
for  him  to  have  thought,  but  they  represent  the  kind  of  thing 
that  was  in  his  heart  and  his  head.  And  when  heart  and  head 
go  together,  nothing  can  stand  before  them. 

"What  nice  bread  and  butter  this  is!"  said  Diamond. 

"I'm  glad  you  like  it,  my  dear,"  said  his  father.  "I 
bought  the  butter  myself  at  the  little  shop  round  the  corner." 

"It's  very  nice,  thank  you,  father.  Oh,  there's  baby 
waking!  I'll  take  him." 

"Sit  still,  Diamond,"  said  his  mother.  "Go  on  with  your 
bread  and  butter.    You're  not  strong  enough  to  lift  him  yet." 

So  she  took  the  baby  herself,  and  set  him  on  her  knee. 
Then  Diamond  began  to  amuse  him,  and  went  on  till  the 
little  fellow  was  shrieking  with  laughter.  For  the  baby's 
world  was  his  mother's  arms;  and  the  drizzling  rain,  and  the 
dreary  mews,  and  even  his  father's  troubled  face  could  not 
touch  him.  What  cared  baby  for  the  loss  of  a  hundred  situa- 
tions?    Yet  neither  father  nor  mother  thought  him  hard- 

[136] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

hearted  because  he  crowed  and  laughed  in  the  middle  of 
their  troubles.  On  the  contrary,  his  crowing  and  laughing 
were  infectious.  His  little  heart  was  so  full  of  merriment  that 
it  could  not  hold  it  all,  aod  it  ran  over  into  theirs.  Father 
and  mother  began  to  laugh  too,  and  Diamond  laughed  till 
he  had  a  fit  of  coughing  which  frightened  his  mother,  and 
made  them  all  stop.  His  father  took  the  baby,  and  his  mother 
put  him  to  bed. 

But  it  was  indeed  a  change  to  them  all,  not  only  from  Sand- 
wich, but  from  their  old  place.  Instead  of  the  great  river 
where  the  huge  barges  with  their  mighty  brown  and  yellow 
sails  went  tacking  from  side  to  side  like  little  pleasure-skiffs, 
and  where  the  long  thin  boats  shot  past  with  eight  and  some- 
times twelve  rowers,  their  windows  now  looked  out  upon  a 
dirty  paved  yard.  And  there  was  no  more  garden  for  Diamond 
to  run  into  when  he  pleased,  with  gay  flowers  about  his  feet, 
and  solemn  sun-filled  trees  over  his  head.  Neither  was  there 
a  wooden  wall  at  the  back  of  his  bed  with  a  hole  in  it  for 
North  Wind  to  come  in  at  when  she  liked.  Indeed,  there 
was  such  a  high  wall,  and  there  were  so  many  houses  about 
the  mews,  that  North  Wind  seldom  got  into  the  place  at  all, 
except  when  something  must  be  done,  and  she  had  a  grand 
cleaning  out  like  other  housewives;  while  the  partition  at  the 
head  of  Diamond's  new  bed  only  divided  it  from  the  room 
occupied  by  a  cabman  who  drank  too  much  beer,  and  came 
home  chiefly  to  quarrel  with  his  wife  and  pinch  his  children. 
It  was  dreadful  to  Diamond  to  hear  the  scolding  and  the 
crying.  But  it  could  not  make  him  miserable,  because  he 
had  been  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind. 

[  137] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

If  my  reader  find  it  hard  to  believe  that  Diamond  should 
be  so  good,  he  must  remember  that  he  had  been  to  the  back 
of  the  north  wind.  If  he  never  knew  a  boy  so  good,  did  he 
ever  know  a  boy  that  had  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind? 
It  was  not  in  the  least  strange  of  Diamond  to  behave  as  he 
did;   on  the  contrary,  it  was  thoroughly  sensible  of  him. 

We  shall  see  how  he  got  on. 


[188] 


CHAPTER  XVI 
DIAMOND  MAKES  A  BEGINNING 

THE  wind  blew  loud,  but  Diamond  slept  a  deep  sleep, 
and  never  heard  it.  My  own  impression  is  that  every 
time  when  Diamond  slept  well  and  remembered  nothing 
about  it  in  the  morning,  he  had  been  all  that  night  at  the 
back  of  the  north  wind.  I  am  almost  sure  that  was  how  he 
woke  so  refreshed,  and  felt  so  quiet  and  hopeful  all  the  day. 
Indeed  he  said  this  much,  though  not  to  me, — that  always 
when  he  woke  from  such  a  sleep  there  was  a  something  in  his 
mind,  he  could  not  tell  what — could  not  tell  whether  it  was 
the  last  far-off  sounds  of  the  river  dying  away  in  the  distance, 
or  some  of  the  words  of  the  endless  song  his  mother  had  read 
to  him  on  the  seashore.  Sometimes  he  thought  it  must  have 
been  the  twittering  of  the  swallows — over  the  shallows,  you 
know;  but  it  may  have  been  the  chirping  of  the  dingy  spar- 
rows picking  up  their  breakfast  in  the  yard — how  can  I  tell? 
I  don't  know  what  I  know,  I  only  know  what  I  think;  and  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  am  more  for  the  swallows  than  the  sparrows. 
When  he  knew  he  was  coming  awake,  he  would  sometimes  try- 
hard  to  keep  hold  of  the  words  of  what  seemed  a  new  song, 
one  he  had  not  heard  before — a  song  in  which  the  words  and 
the  music  somehow  appeared  to  be  all  one;  but  even  when 
he  thought  he  had  got  them  well  fixed  in  his  mind,  even  as  he 
came  awaker — as  he  would  say — one  line  faded  away  out  of  it, 
and  then  another,  and  then  another,  till  at  last  there  was 

[  139] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

nothing  left  but  some  lovely  picture  of  water  or  grass  or  daisies, 
or  something  else  very  common,  but  with  all  the  commonness 
polished  off  it,  and  the  lovely  soul  of  it,  which  people  so  seldom 
see,  and,  alas !  yet  seldomer  believe  in,  shining  out.  But  after 
that  he  would  sing  the  oddest,  loveliest  little  songs  to  the  baby 
— of  his  own  making,  his  mother  said;  but  Diamond  said  he 
did  not  make  them;  they  were  made  somewhere  inside  him, 
and  he  knew  nothing  about  them  till  they  were  coming  out. 

When  he  woke  that  first  morning  he  got  up  at  once,  saying 
to  himself,  "I've  been  ill  long  enough,  and  have  given  a  great 
deal  of  trouble;  I  must  try  and  be  of  use  now,  and  help  my 
mother."  When  he  went  into  her  room  he  found  her  lighting 
the  fire,  and  his  father  just  getting  out  of  bed.  They  had  only 
the  one  room,  besides  the  little  one,  not  much  more  than  a 
closet,  in  which  Diamond  slept.  He  began  at  once  to  set 
things  to  rights,  but  the  baby  waking  up,  he  took  him,  and 
nursed  him  till  his  mother  had  got  the  breakfast  ready.  She 
was  looking  gloomy,  and  his  father  was  silent;  and  indeed 
except  Diamond  had  done  all  he  possibly  could  to  keep  out 
the  misery  that  was  trying  to  get  in  at  doors  and  windows,  he 
too  would  have  grown  miserable,  and  then  they  would  have 
been  all  miserable  together.  But  to  try  to  make  others  com- 
fortable is  the  only  way  to  get  right  comfortable  ourselves,  and 
that  comes  partly  of  not  being  able  to  think  so  much  about 
ourselves  when  we  are  helping  other  people.  For  our  Selves 
will  always  do  pretty  well  if  we  don't  pay  them  too  much  at- 
tention. Our  Selves  are  like  some  little  children  who  will  be 
happy  enough  so  long  as  they  are  left  to  their  own  games,  but 
when  we  begin  to  interfere  with  them,  and  make  them  presents 

[140] 


DM^K 


So  Diamond  sat  down  again  and  took  the  baby  in  his  lap. 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

of  too  nice  playthings,  or  too  many  sweet  things,  they  begin  at 
once  to  fret  and  spoil. 

"Why,  Diamond,  child!"  said  his  mother  at  last,  "you're  as 
good  to  your  mother  as  if  you  were  a  girl — nursing  the  baby, 
and  toasting  the  bread,  and  sweeping  up  the  hearth !  I  declare 
a  body  would  think  you  had  been  among  the  fairies." 

Could  Diamond  have  had  greater  praise  or  greater  pleasure? 
You  see  when  he  forgot  his  Self  his  mother  took  care  of  his 
Self,  and  loved  and  praised  his  Self.  Our  own  praises  poison 
our  Selves,  and  puff  and  swell  them  up,  till  they  lose  all  shape 
and  beauty,  and  become  like  great  toadstools.  But  the  praises 
of  father  or  mother  do  our  Selves  good,  and  comfort  them  and 
make  them  beautiful.  They  never  do  them  any  harm.  If  they 
do  any  harm,  it  comes  of  our  mixing  some  of  our  own  praises 
with  them,  and  that  turns  them  nasty  and  slimy  and  poisonous. 

When  his  father  had  finished  his  breakfast,  which  he  did 
rather  in  a  hurry,  he  got  up  and  went  down  into  the  yard  to 
get  out  his  horse  and  put  him  to  the  cab. 

"Won't  you  come  and  see  the  cab,  Diamond?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  'please,  father — if  mother  can  spare  me  a  minute," 
answered  Diamond. 

"Bless  the  child!  I  don't  want  him,"  said  his  mother  cheer- 
fully. 

But  as  he  was  following  his  father  out  of  the  door,  she  called 
him  back. 

"Diamond,  just  hold  the  baby  one  minute.  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  your  father." 

So  Diamond  sat  down  again,  took  the  baby  in  his  lap,  and 
began  poking  his  face  into  its  little  body,  laughing  and  singing 

[141] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

all  the  while,  so  that  the  baby  crowed  like  a  little  bantam. 
And  what  he  sang  was  something  like  this — such  nonsense  to 
those  that  couldn't  understand  it!  but  not  to  the  baby,  who 
got  all  the  good  in  the  world  out  of  it: — 

baby's  a-sleeping 

wake  up  baby 

for  all  the  swallows 

are  the  merriest  fellows 

and  have  the  yellowest  children 

who  would  go  sleeping 

and  snore  like  a  gaby 

disturbing  his  mother 

and  father  and  brother 

and  all  a-boring 

theirs  ears  with  his  snoring 

snoring  snoring 

for  himself  and  no  other 

for  himself  in  particular 

wake  up  baby 

sit  up  perpendicular 

hark  to  the  gushing 

hark  to  the  rushing 

where  the  sheep  are  the  woolliest 

and  the  lambs  the  unruliest 

and  their  tails  the  whitest 

and  their  eyes  the  brightest 

and  baby's  the  bonniest 

and  baby's  the  funniest 

and  baby's  the  shiniest 

and  baby's  the  tiniest 

and  baby's  the  merriest 

and  baby's  the  worriest 

of  all  the  lambs 

that  plague  their  dams 

and  mother's  the  whitest 

of  all  the  dams 

that  feed  the  lambs 

that  go  crop-cropping 

without  stop-stopping 

[142] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  father's  the  best 

of  all  the  swallows 

that  build  their  nest 

out  of  the  shining  shallows 

and  he  has  the  merriest  children 

that's  baby  and  Diamond 

and  Diamond  and  baby 

and  baby  and  Diamond 

and  Diamond  and  baby 

Here  Diamond's  knees  went  off  in  a  wild  dance  which  tossed 
the  baby  about  and  shook  the  laughter  out  of  him  in  immod- 
erate peals.  His  mother  had  been  listening  at  the  door  to  the 
last  few  lines  of  his  song,  and  came  in  with  the  tears  in  her 
eyes.  She  took  the  baby  from  him,  gave  him  a  kiss,  and  told 
him  to  run  to  his  father. 

By  the  time  Diamond  got  into  the  yard,  the  horse  was  be- 
tween the  shafts,  and  his  father  was  looping  the  traces  on. 
Diamond  went  round  to  look  at  the  horse.  The  sight  of  him 
made  him  feel  very  queer.  He  did  not  know  much  about 
different  horses,  and  all  other  horses  than  their  own  were  very 
much  the  same  to  him.  But  he  could  not  make  it  out.  This 
was  Diamond  and  it  wasn't  Diamond.  Diamond  didn't  hang 
his  head  like  that;  yet  the  head  that  was  hanging  was  very  like 
the  one  that  Diamond  used  to  hold  so  high.  Diamond's  bones 
didn't  show  through  his  skin  like  that;  but  the  skin  they 
pushed  out  of  shape  so  was  very  like  Diamond's  skin;  and  the 
bones  might  be  Diamond's  bones,  for  he  had  never  seen  the 
shape  of  them.  But  when  he  came  round  in  front  of  the  old 
horse,  and  he  put  out  his  long  neck,  and  began  sniffing  at  him 
and  rubbing  his  upper  lip  and  his  nose  on  him,  then  Diamond 

saw  it  could  be  no  other  than  old  Diamond,  and  he  did  just 

[143] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

as  his  father  had  done  before — put  his  arms  round  his  neck 
and  cried — but  not  much. 

"Ain't  it  jolly,  father?"  he  said.  "Was  there  ever  anybody 
so  lucky  as  me?    Dear  old  Diamond!" 

And  he  hugged  the  horse  again,  and  kissed  both  his  big 
hairy  cheeks.  He  could  only  manage  one  at  a  time  however 
— the  other  cheek  was  so  far  off  on  the  other  side  of  his  big 
head. 

His  father  mounted  the  box  with  just  the  same  air,  as  Dia- 
mond thought,  with  which  he  had  used  to  get  upon  the  coach- 
box, and  Diamond  said  to  himself,  "Father's  as  grand  as  ever 
anyhow."  He  had  kept  his  brown  livery-coat,  only  his  wife 
had  taken  the  silver  buttons  off  and  put  brass  ones  instead,  be- 
cause they  did  not  think  it  polite  to  Mr.  Coleman  in  his  fallen 
fortunes  to  let  his  crest  be  seen  upon  the  box  of  a  cab.  Old 
Diamond  had  kept  just  his  collar;  and  that  had  the  silver  crest 
upon  it  still,  for  his  master  thought  nobody  would  notice  that, 
and  so  let  it  remain  for  a  memorial  of  the  better  days  of  which 
it  reminded  him — not  unpleasantly,  seeing  it  had  been  by  no 
fault  either  of  his  or  of  the  old  horse's  that  they  had  come  down 
in  the  world  together. 

"Oh,  father,  do  let  me  drive  a  bit,"  said  Diamond,  jumping 
up  on  the  box  beside  him. 

His  father  changed  places  with  him  at  once,  putting  the 
reins  into  his  hands.    Diamond  gathered  them  up  eagerly. 

"Don't  pull  at  his  mouth,"  said  his  father;  "just  feel  at  it 
gently  to  let  him  know  you're  there  and  attending  to  him. 
That's  what  I  call  talking  to  him  through  the  reins." 

"Yes,  father,  I  understand,"  said  Diamond.    Then  to  the 

[  144] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

horse  he  said,  "Go  on,  Diamond."  And  old  Diamond's  pon- 
derous bulk  began  at  once  to  move  to  the  voice  of  the  little 
boy. 

But  before  they  had  reached  the  entrance  of  the  mews, 
another  voice  called  after  young  Diamond,  which,  in  his  turn, 
he  had  to  obey,  for  it  was  that  of  his  mother.  "Diamond! 
Diamond!"  it  cried;  and  Diamond  pulled  the  reins,  and  the 
horse  stood  still  as  a  stone. 

"Husband,"  said  his  mother,  coming  up,  "you're  never 
going  to  trust  him  with  the  reins — a  baby  like  that?" 

"  He  must  learn  some  day,  and  he  can't  begin  too  soon.  I 
see  already  he's  a  born  coachman,"  said  his  father  proudly. 
"And  I  don't  see  well  how  he  could  escape  it,  for  my  father 
and  my  grandfather,  that's  his  great-grandfather,  was  all 
coachmen,  I'm  told;  so  it  must  come  natural  to  him,  any  one 
would  think.  Besides,  you  see,  old  Diamond's  as  proud  of  him 
as  we  are  our  own  selves,  wife.  Don't  you  see  how  he's  turning 
round  his  ears,  with  the  mouths  of  them  open,  for  the  first  word 
he  speaks  to  tumble  in?  He's  too  well  bred  to  turn  his  head, 
you  know." 

"Well,  but,  husband,  I  can't  do  without  him  to-day. 
Everything's  got  to  be  done,  you  know.  It's  my  first  day  here. 
And  there's  that  baby!" 

"Bless  you,  wife!  I  never  meant  to  take  him  away — only 
to  the  bottom  of  Endell  Street.    He  can  watch  his  way  back." 

"No,  thank  you,  father;  not  to-day,"  said  Diamond. 
"  Mother  wants  me.    Perhaps  she'll  let  me  go  another  day." 

"Very  well,  my  man,"  said  his  father,  and  took  the  reins 
which  Diamond  was  holding  out  to  him. 

[  145  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Diamond  got  down,  a  little  disappointed  of  course,  and 
went  in  with  his  mother,  who  was  too  pleased  to  speak.  She 
only  took  hold  of  his  hand  as  tight  as  if  she  had  been  afraid 
of  his  running  away  instead  of  glad  that  he  would  not  leave 
her. 

Now,  although  they  did  not  know  it,  the  owner  of  the 
stables,  the  same  man  who  had  sold  the  horse  to  his  father,  had 
been  standing  just  inside  one  of  the  stable-doors,  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  and  had  heard  and  seen  all  that  passed;  and 
from  that  day  John  Stonecrop  took  a  great  fancy  to  the  little 
boy.    And  this  was  the  beginning  of  what  came  of  it. 

That  same  evening,  just  as  Diamond  was  feeling  tired 
of  the  day's  work,  and  wishing  his  father  would  come  home, 
Mr.  Stonecrop  knocked  at  the  door.  His  mother  went  and 
opened  it. 

"Good  evening,  ma'am,"  said  he.    "Is  little  master  in?" 

"Yes,  to  be  sure  he  is — at  your  service,  I'm  sure,  Mr.  Stone- 
crop," said  his  mother. 

"No,  no,  ma'am;  it's  I'm  at  his  service.  I'm  just  a-going 
out  with  my  own  cab,  and  if  he  likes  to  come  with  me,  he  shall 
drive  my  old  horse  till  he's  tired." 

"It's  getting  rather  late  for  him,"  said  his  mother  thought- 
fully.   "You  see  he's  been  an  invalid." 

Diamond  thought,  what  a  funny  thing !  How  could  he  have 
been  an  invalid  when  he  did  not  even  know  what  the  word 
meant?    But,  of  course,  his  mother  was  right. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Mr.  Stonecrop,  "I  can  just  let  him  drive 
through  Bloomsbury  Square,  and  then  he  shall  run  home 
again." 

[146] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Very  good,  sir.  And  I'm  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  his 
mother.  And  Diamond,  dancing  with  delight,  got  his  cap,  put 
his  hand  in  Mr.  Stonecrop's,  and  went  with  him  to  the  yard 
where  the  cab  was  waiting.  He  did  not  think  the  horse  looked 
nearly  so  nice  as  Diamond,  nor  Mr.  Stonecrop  nearly  so  grand 
as  his  father;  but  he  was  none  the  less  pleased.  He  got  up  on 
the  box,  and  his  new  friend  got  up  beside  him. 

"What's  the  horse's  name?"  whispered  Diamond,  as  he 
took  the  reins  from  the  man. 

"It's  not  a  nice  name,"  said  Mr.  Stonecrop.  "You  needn't 
call  him  by  it.  I  didn't  give  it  him.  He'll  go  well  enough 
without  it.  Give  the  boy  a  whip,  Jack.  I  never  carries  one 
when  I  drives  old " 

He  didn't  finish  the  sentence.  Jack  handed  Diamond  a 
whip,  with  which,  by  holding  it  half  down  the  stick,  he  man- 
aged just  to  flack  the  haunches  of  the  horse;  and  away  he 
went. 

"Mind  the  gate,"  said  Mr.  Stonecrop;  and  Diamond  did 
mind  the  gate,  and  guided  the  nameless  horse  through  it  in 
safety,  pulling  him  this  way  and  that  according  as  was  neces- 
sary. Diamond  learned  to  drive  all  the  sooner  that  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  do  what  he  was  told,  and  could  obey  the 
smallest  hint  in  a  moment.  Nothing  helps  one  to  get  on  like 
that.  Some  people  don't  know  how  to  do  what  they  are  told; 
they  have  not  been  used  to  it,  and  they  neither  understand 
quickly  nor  are  able  to  turn  what  they  do  understand  into 
action  quickly.  With  an  obedient  mind  one  learns  the  rights 
of  things  fast  enough ;  for  it  is  the  law  of  the  universe,  and  to 

obey  is  to  understand. 

[147] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Look  out!"  cried  Mr.  Stonecrop,  as  they  were  turning  the 
corner  into  Bloornsbury  Square. 

It  was  getting  dusky  now.  A  cab  was  approaching  rather 
rapidly  from  the  opposite  direction,  and  Diamond  pulling 
aside,  and  the  other  driver  pulling  up,  they  only  just  escaped  a 
collision.    Then  they  knew  each  other. 

"Why,  Diamond,  it's  a  bad  beginning  to  run  into  your  own 
father,"  cried  the  driver. 

"But,  father,  wouldn't  it  have  been  a  bad  ending  to  run 
into  your  own  son?"  said  Diamond  in  return;  and  the  two  men 
laughed  heartily. 

"This  is  very  kind  of  you,  I'm  sure,  Stonecrop,"  said  his 
father. 

"  Not  a  bit.  He's  a  brave  fellow,  and'll  be  fit  to  drive  on  his 
own  hook  in  a  week  or  two.  But  I  think  you'd  better  let  him 
drive  you  home  now,  for  his  mother  don't  like  his  having  over 
much  of  the  night  air,  and  I  promised  not  to  take  him  farther 
than  the  square." 

"Come  along  then,  Diamond,"  said  his  father,  as  he 
brought  his  cab  up  to  the  other,  and  moved  off  the  box  to  the 
seat  beside  it.  Diamond  jumped  across,  caught  at  the  reins, 
said  "Good  night,  and  thank  you,  Mr.  Stonecrop,"  and  drove 
away  home,  feeling  more  of  a  man  than  he  had  ever  yet  had  a 
chance  of  feeling  in  all  his  life.  Nor  did  his  father  find  it  neces- 
sary to  give  him  a  single  hint  as  to  his  driving.  Only  I  suspect 
the  fact  that  it  was  old  Diamond,  and  old  Diamond  on  his 
way  to  his  stable,  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  young 
Diamond's  success. 

[148] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Well,  child,"  said  his  mother,  when  he  entered  the  room, 
"you've  not  been  long  gone." 

"No,  mother;  here  I  am.    Give  me  the  baby." 

"The  baby's  asleep,"  said  his  mother. 

"Then  give  him  to  me,  and  I'll  lay  him  down." 

But  as  Diamond  took  him,  he  woke  up  and  began  to  laugh. 

For  he  was  indeed  one  of  the  merriest  children.     And  no 

wonder,  for  he  was  as  plump  as  a  plum-pudding,  and  had 

never  had  an  ache  or  a  pain  that  lasted  more  than  five  minutes 

at  a  time.    Diamond  sat  down  with  him  and  began  to  sing  to 

him. 

baby  baby  babbing 

your  father's  gone  a-cabbing 

to  catch  a  shilling  for  its  pence 

to  make  the  baby  babbing  dance 

for  old  Diamond's  a  duck 

they  say  he  can  swim 

but  the  duck  of  diamonds 

is  baby  that's  him 

and  of  all  the  swallows 

the  merriest  fellows 

that  bake  their  cake 

with  the  water  they  shake 

out  of  the  river 

flowing  for  ever 

and  make  dust  into  clay 

on  the  shiniest  day 

to  build  their  nest 

father's  the  best 

and  mother's  the  whitest 

and  her  eyes  are  the  brightest 

of  all  the  dams 

that  watch  their  lambs 

cropping  the  grass 

where  the  waters  pass 

singing  for  ever 

and  of  all  the  lambs 

[149] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

with  the  shakingest  tails 
and  the  jumpingest  feet 
baby's  the  funniest 
baby's  the  bonniest 
and  he  never  wails 
and  he's  always  sweet 
and  Diamond's  his  nurse 
and  Diamond's  his  nurse 
and  Diamond's  his  nurse 

When  Diamond's  rhymes  grew  scarce,  he  always  began 
dancing  the  baby.  Some  people  wondered  that  such  a  child 
could  rhyme  as  he  did,  but  his  rhymes  were  not  very  good,  for 
he  was  only  trying  to  remember  what  he  had  heard  the  river 
sing  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind. 


[150] 


CHAPTER  XVII 
DIAMOND  GOES  ON 

DIAMOND  became  a  great  favorite  with  all  the  men 
about  the  mews.  Some  may  think  it  was  not  the 
best  place  in  the  world  for  him  to  be  brought  up  in; 
but  it  must  have  been,  for  there  he  was.  At  first,  he  heard  a 
good  many  rough  and  bad  words;  but  he  did  not  like  them,  and 
so  they  did  him  little  harm.  He  did  not  know  in  the  least  what 
they  meant,  but  there  was  something  in  the  very  sound  of 
them,  and  in  the  tone  of  voice  in  which  they  were  said,  which 
Diamond  felt  to  be  ugly.  So  they  did  not  even  stick  to  him, 
not  to  say  get  inside  him.  He  never  took  any  notice  of  them, 
and  his  face  shone  pure  and  good  in  the  middle  of  them,  like 
a  primrose  in  a  hailstorm.  At  first,  because  his  face  was  so 
quiet  and  sweet,  with  a  smile  always  either  awake  or  asleep  in 
his  eyes,  and  because  he  never  heeded  their  ugly  words  and 
rough  jokes,  they  said  he  wasn't  all  there,  meaning  that  he  was 
half  an  idiot,  whereas  he  was  a  great  deal  more  there  than  they 
had  the  sense  to  see.  And  before  long  the  bad  words  found 
themselves  ashamed  to  come  out  of  the  men's  mouths  when 
Diamond  was  near.  The  one  would  nudge  the  other  to  remind 
him  that  the  boy  was  within  hearing,  and  the  words  choked 
themselves  before  they  got  any  farther.  When  they  talked  to 
him  nicely  he  had  always  a  good  answer,  sometimes  a  smart 
one,  ready,  and  that  helped  much  to  make  them  change  their 
minds  about  him. 

One  day  Jack  gave  him  a  curry-comb  and  a  brush  to  try 

[151] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

his  hand  upon  old  Diamond's  coat.  He  used  them  so  deftly, 
so  gently,  and  yet  so  thoroughly,  as  far  as  he  could  reach,  that 
the  man  could  not  help  admiring  him. 

"You  must  make  haste  and  grow,"  he  said.  "It  won't 
do  to  have  a  horse's  belly  clean  and  his  back  dirty,  you 
know." 

"Give  me  a  leg,"  said  Diamond,  and  in  a  moment  he  was 
on  the  old  horse's  back  with  the  comb  and  brush.  He  sat  on 
his  withers,  and  reaching  forward  as  he  ate  his  hay,  he  curried 
and  he  brushed,  first  at  one  side  of  his  neck,  and  then  at  the 
other.  When  that  was  done  he  asked  for  a  dressing-comb,  and 
combed  his  mane  thoroughly.  Then  he  pushed  himself  on  to 
his  back,  and  did  his  shoulders  as  far  down  as  he  could  reach. 
Then  he  sat  on  his  croup,  and  did  his  back  and  sides;  then  he 
turned  round  like  a  monkey,  and  attacked  his  hind-quarters, 
and  combed  his  tail.  This  last  was  not  so  easy  to  manage,  for 
he  had  to  lift  it  up,  and  every  now  and  then  old  Diamond  would 
whisk  it  out  of  his  hands,  and  once  he  sent  the  comb  flying  out 
of  the  stable  door,  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  men.  But 
Jack  fetched  it  again,  and  Diamond  began  once  more,  and  did 
not  leave  off  till  he  had  done  the  whole  business  fairly  well,  if 
not  in  a  first-rate,  experienced  fashion.  All  the  time  the  old 
horse  went  on  eating  his  hay,  and,  but  with  an  occasional  whisk 
of  his  tail  when  Diamond  tickled  or  scratched  him,  took  no 
notice  of  the  proceeding.  But  that  was  all  a  pretence,  for  he 
knew  very  well  who  it  was  that  was  perched  on  his  back,  and 
rubbing  away  at  him  with  the  comb  and  the  brush.  So  he  was 
quite  pleased  and  proud,  and  perhaps  said  to  himself  something 
like  this, — 

[152] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I'm  a  stupid  old  horse,  who  can't  brush  his  own  coat;  but 
there's  my  young  godson  on  my  back,  cleaning  me  like  an 
angle." 

I  won't  vouch  for  what  the  old  horse  was  thinking,  for  it  is 
very  difficult  to  find  out  what  any  old  horse  is  thinking. 

"Oh  dear!"  said  Diamond  when  he  had  done,  "I'm  so 
tired!" 

And  he  laid  himself  down  at  full  length  on  old  Diamond's 
back. 

By  this  time  all  the  men  in  the  stable  were  gathered  about 
the  two  Diamonds,  and  all  much  amused.  One  of  them  lifted 
him  down,  and  from  that  time  he  was  a  greater  favorite  than 
before.  And  if  ever  there  was  a  boy  who  had  a  chance  of 
being  a  prodigy  at  cab-driving,  Diamond  was  that  boy,  for  the 
strife  came  to  be  who  should  have  him  out  with  him  on  the  box. 

His  mother,  however,  was  a  little  shy  of  the  company  for 
hirn,  and  besides  she  could  not  always  spare  him.  Also  his 
father  liked  to  have  him  himself  when  he  could;  so  that  he  was 
more  desired  than  enjoyed  among  the  cabmen. 

But  one  way  and  another  he  did  learn  to  drive  all  sorts  of 
horses,  and  to  drive  them  well,  and  that  through  the  most 
crowded  streets  in  London  city.  Of  course  there  was  the  man 
always  on  the  box-seat  beside  him,  but  before  long  there  was 
seldom  the  least  occasion  to  take  the  reins  out  of  his  hands. 
For  one  thing  he  never  got  frightened,  and  consequently  was 
never  in  too  great  a  hurry.  Yet  when  the  moment  came  for 
doing  something  sharp,  he  was  always  ready  for  it.  I  must 
once  more  remind  my  readers  that  he  had  been  to  the  back  of 
the  north  wind. 

[153] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

One  day,  which  was  neither  washing-day  nor  cleaning-day, 
nor  marketing-day,  nor  Saturday,  nor  Monday— upon  which 
consequently  Diamond  could  be  spared  from  the  baby — his 
father  took  him  on  his  own  cab.  After  a  stray  job  or  two  by 
the  way,  they  drew  up  in  the  row  upon  the  stand  between 
Cockspur  Street  and  Pall  Mall.  They  waited  a  long  time,  but 
nobody  seemed  to  want  to  be  carried  anywhere.  By  and  by 
ladies  would  be  going  home  from  the  Academy  exhibition,  and 
then  there  would  be  a  chance  of  a  job. 

"Though,  to  be  sure,"  said  Diamond's  father — with  what 
truth  I  cannot  say,  but  he  believed  what  he  said — "  some  ladies 
is  very  hard,  and  keeps  you  to  the  bare  sixpence  a  mile,  when 
every  one  knows  that  ain't  enough  to  keep  a  family  and  a  cab 
upon.  To  be  sure  it's  the  law;  but  mayhap  they  may  get  more 
law  than  they  like  some  day  themselves." 

As  it  was  very  hot,  Diamond's  father  got  down  to  have  a 
glass  of  beer  himself,  and  give  another  to  the  old  waterman. 
He  left  Diamond  on  the  box. 

A  sudden  noise  got  up  and  Diamond  looked  round  to  see 
what  was  the  matter. 

There  was  a  crossing  near  the  cab-stand,  where  a  girl  was 
sweeping.  Some  rough  young  imps  had  picked  a  quarrel  with 
her,  and  were  now  hauling  at  her  broom  to  get  it  away  from 
her.  But  as  they  did  not  pull  all  together,  she  was  holding  it 
against  them,  scolding  and  entreating  alternately. 

Diamond  was  off  his  box  in  a  moment,  and  running  to  the 
help  of  the  girl.  He  got  hold  of  the  broom  at  her  end  and 
pulled  along  with  her.  But  the  boys  proceeded  to  rougher 
measures,  and  one  of  them  hit  Diamond  on  the  nose,  and  made 

[154] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

it  bleed;  and  as  he  could  not  let  go  the  broom  to  mind  his 
nose,  he  was  soon  a  dreadful  figure.  But  presently  his  father 
came  back,  and  missing  Diamond,  looked  about.  He  had  to 
look  twice,  however,  before  he  could  be  sure  that  that  was  his 
boy  in  the  middle  of  the  tumult.  He  rushed  in,  and  sent  the 
assailants  flying  in  all  directions.  The  girl  thanked  Diamond, 
and  began  sweeping  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  while  his 
father  led  him  away.  With  the  help  of  old  Tom,  the  waterman, 
he  was  soon  washed  into  decency,  and  his  father  set  him  on 
the  box  again,  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  account  he  gave  of 
the  cause  of  his  being  in  a  fray. 

"I  couldn't  let  them  behave  so  to  a  poor  girl — could  I, 
father?"  he  said. 

"Certainly  not,  Diamond,"  said  his  father,  quite  pleased, 
for  Diamond's  father  was  a  gentleman. 

A  moment  after,  up  came  the  girl,  running,  with  her  broom 
over  her  shoulder,  and  calling,  "Cab,  there!  cab!" 

Diamond's  father  turned  instantly,  for  he  was  the  fore- 
most in  the  rank,  and  followed  the  girl.  One  or  two  other 
passing  cabs  heard  the  cry,  and  made  for  the  place,  but  the 
girl  had  taken  care  not  to  call  till  she  was  near  enough 
to  give  her  friends  the  first  chance.  When  they  reached  the 
curbstone — who  should  it  be  waiting  for  the  cab  but  Mrs. 
and  Miss  Coleman!  They  did  not  look  at  the  cabman, 
however.  The  girl  opened  the  door  for  them;  they  gave 
her  the  address,  and  a  penny;  she  told  the  cabman,  and 
away   they  drove. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Diamond's  father  got  down 
and  rang  the  bell.    As  he  opened  the  door  of  the  cab,  he  touched 

[155] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

his  hat  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do.  The  ladies  both  stared  for 
a  moment,  and  then  exclaimed  together: 

"Why,  Joseph!  can  it  be  you?" 

"Yes,  ma'am;  yes,  miss;"  answered  he,  again  touching 
his  hat,  with  all  the  respect  he  could  possibly  put  into  the 
action.  "It's  a  lucky  day  which  I  see  you  once  more  upon 
it." 

"Who  would  have  thought  it?"  said  Mrs.  Coleman.  "It's 
changed  times  for  both  of  us,  Joseph,  and  it's  not  very  often 
we  can  have  a  cab  even;  but  you  see  my  daughter  is  still  very 
poorly,  and  she  can't  bear  the  motion  of  the  omnibuses.  In- 
deed we  meant  to  walk  a  bit  first  before  we  took  a  cab,  but 
just  at  the  corner,  for  as  hot  as  the  sun  was,  a  cold  wind  came 
down  the  street,  and  I  saw  that  Miss  Coleman  must  not  face 
it.  But  to  think  we  should  have  fallen  upon  you,  of  all  the 
cabmen  in  London!    I  didn't  know  you  had  got  a  cab." 

"Well,  you  see,  ma'am,  I  had  a  chance  of  buying  the  old 
horse,  and  I  couldn't  resist  him.  There  he  is,  looking  at  you, 
ma'am.    Nobody  knows  the  sense  in  that  head  of  his." 

The  two  ladies  went  near  to  pat  the  horse,  and  then  they 
noticed  Diamond  on  the  box. 

"Why,  you've  got  both  Diamonds  with  you,"  said  Miss 
Coleman.    "How  do  you  do,  Diamond?" 

Diamond  lifted  his  cap,  and  answered  politely. 

"He'll  be  fit  to  drive  himself  before  long,"  said  his  father, 
proudly.    "The  old  horse  is  a-teaching  of  him." 

"Well,  he  must  come  and  see  us,  now  you've  found  us  out. 
Where  do  you  live?" 

Diamond's  father  gave  the  ladies  a  ticket  with  his  name  and 

[156] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

address  printed  on  it;  and  then  Mrs.  Coleman  took  out  her 
purse,  saying: 

"And  what's  your  fare,  Joseph?" 

"No,  thank  you,  ma'am,"  said  Joseph.  "It  was  your  own 
old  horse  as  took  you;  and  me  you  paid  long  ago." 

He  jumped  on  his  box  before  she  could  say  another  word, 
and  with  a  parting  salute  drove  off,  leaving  them  on  the  pave- 
ment, with  the  maid  holding  the  door  for  them. 

It  was  a  long  time  now  since  Diamond  had  seen  North 
Wind,  or  even  thought  much  about  her.  And  as  his  father 
drove  along,  he  was  thinking  not  about  her,  but  about  the 
crossing-sweeper,  and  was  wondering  what  made  him  feel  as  if 
he  knew  her  quite  well,  when  he  could  not  remember  anything 
of  her.  But  a  picture  arose  in  his  mind  of  a  little  girl  running 
before  the  wind  and  dragging  her  broom  after  her;  and  from 
that,  by  degrees,  he  recalled  the  whole  adventure  of  the  night 
when  he  got  down  from  North  Wind's  back  in  a  London  street. 
But  he  could  not  quite  satisfy  himself  whether  the  whole  affair 
was  not  a  dream  which  he  had  dreamed  when  he  was  a  very 
little  boy.  Only  he  had  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind 
since — there  could  be  no  doubt  of  that;  for  when  he  woke 
every  morning,  he  always  knew  that  he  had  been  there  again. 
And  as  he  thought  and  thought,  he  recalled  another  thing  that 
had  happened  that  morning,  which,  although  it  seemed  a  mere 
accident,  might  have  something  to  do  with  what  had  happened 
since.  His  father  had  intended  going  on  the  stand  at  King's 
Cross  that  morning,  and  had  turned  into  Gray's  Inn  Lane  to 
drive  there,  when  they  found  the  way  blocked  up,  and  upon 
inquiry  were  informed  that  a  stack  of  chimneys  had  been  blown 

[  157] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

down  in  the  night,  and  had  fallen  across  the  road.  They  were 
just  clearing  the  rubbish  away.  Diamond's  father  turned,  and 
made  for  Charing  Cross. 

That  night  the  father  and  mother  had  a  great  deal  to  talk 
about. 

"Poor  things!"  said  the  mother;  "it's  worse  for  them  than 
it  is  for  us.  You  see  they've  been  used  to  such  grand  things, 
and  for  them  to  come  down  to  a  little  poky  house  like  that — it 
breaks  my  heart  to  think  of  it." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Diamond  thoughtfully,  "whether 
Mrs.  Coleman  had  bells  on  her  toes." 

"What  do  you  mean,  child?"  said  his  mother. 

"She  had  rings  on  her  fingers  anyhow,"  returned  Diamond. 

"  Of  course  she  had,  as  any  lady  would.  What  has  that  to 
do  with  it?" 

"When  we  were  down  at  Sandwich,"  said  Diamond,  "you 
said  you  would  have  to  part  with  your  mother's  ring,  now  we 
were  poor." 

"Bless  the  child!  he  forgets  nothing,"  said  his  mother. 
"Really,  Diamond,  a  body  would  need  to  mind  what  they  say 
to  you." 

"Why?"  said  Diamond.    "I  only  think  about  it." 

"That's  just  why,"  said  the  mother. 

"Why  is  that  why?"  persisted  Diamond,  for  he  had  not  yet 
learned  that  grown-up  people  are  not  often  so  much  grown  up 
that  they  never  talk  like  children — and  spoilt  ones  too. 

"Mrs.  Coleman  is  none  so  poor  as  all  that  yet.  No,  thank 
Heaven!  she's  not  come  to  that." 

[158] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Is  it  a  great  disgrace  to  be  poor?"  asked  Diamond,  be- 
cause of  the  tone  in  which  his  mother  had  spoken. 

But  his  mother,  whether  conscience-stricken  I  do  not  know, 
hurried  him  away  to  bed,  where  after  various  attempts  to 
understand  her,  resumed  and  resumed  again  in  spite  of  in- 
vading sleep,  he  was  conquered  at  last,  and  gave  in,  murmuring 
over  and  over  to  himself,  "Why  is  why?"  but  getting  no  an- 
swer to  the  question. 


[159] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  DRUNKEN  CABMAN 

A  FEW  nights  after  this,  Diamond  woke  up  suddenly,  be- 
/— %  lieving  he  heard  the  North  Wind  thundering  along. 
"*"  *^  But  it  was  something  quite  different.  South  Wind 
was  moaning  round  the  chimneys,  to  be  sure,  for  she  was  not 
very  happy  that  night,  but  it  was  not  her  voice  that  had 
wakened  Diamond.  Her  voice  would  only  have  lulled  him  the 
deeper  asleep.  It  was  a  loud,  angry  voice,  now  growling  like 
that  of  a  beast,  now  raving  like  that  of  a  madman ;  and  when 
Diamond  came  a  little  wider  awake,  he  knew  that  it  was  the 
voice  of  the  drunken  cabman,  the  wall  of  whose  room  was  at 
the  head  of  his  bed.  It  was  anything  but  pleasant  to  hear, 
but  he  could  not  help  hearing  it.  At  length  there  came  a  cry 
from  the  woman,  and  then  a  scream  from  the  baby.  There- 
upon Diamond  thought  it  time  that  somebody  did  something, 
and  as  himself  was  the  only  somebody  at  hand,  he  must  go 
and  see  whether  he  could  not  do  the  something.  So  he  got  up 
and  put  on  part  of  his  clothes,  and  went  down  the  stair,  for 
the  cabman's  room  did  not  open  upon  their  stair,  and  he  had  to 
go  out  into  the  yard,  and  in  at  the  next  door.  This,  fortunately 
the  cabman,  being  drunk,  had  left  open.  By  the  time  he 
reached  their  stair,  all  was  still  except  the  voice  of  the  crying 
baby,  which  guided  him  to  the  right  door.  He  opened  it 
softly,  and  peeped  in.  There,  leaning  back  in  a  chair,  with  his 
arms  hanging  down  by  his  sides,  and  his  legs  stretched  out 

[160] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

before  him  and  supported  on  his  heels,  sat  the  drunken  cab- 
man. His  wife  lay  in  her  clothes  upon  the  bed,  sobbing,  and 
the  baby  was  wailing  in  the  cradle.  It  was  very  miserable 
altogether. 

Now  the  way  most  people  do  when  they  see  anything  very 
miserable  is  to  turn  away  from  the  sight,  and  try  to  forget  it. 
But  Diamond  began  as  usual  to  try  to  destroy  the  misery.  The 
little  boy  was  just  as  much  one  of  God's  messengers  as  if  he 
had  been  an  angel  with  a  flaming  sword,  going  out  to  fight  the 
devil.  The  devil  he  had  to  fight  just  then  was  Misery.  And 
the  way  he  fought  him  was  the  very  best.  Like  a  wise  soldier, 
he  attacked  him  first  in  his  weakest  point — that  was  the  baby; 
for  Misery  can  never  get  such  a  hold  of  a  baby  as  of  a  grown 
person.  Diamond  was  knowing  in  babies,  and  he  knew  he 
could  do  something  to  make  the  baby  happy ;  for  although  he 
had  only  known  one  baby  as  yet,  and  although  not  one  baby  is 
the  same  as  another,  yet  they  are  so  very  much  alike  in  some 
things,  and  he  knew  that  one  baby  so  thoroughly,  that  he  had 
good  reason  to  believe  he  could  do  something  for  any  other. 
I  have  known  people  who  would  have  begun  to  fight  the  devil 
in  a  very  different  and  a  very  stupid  way.  They  would  have 
begun  by  scolding  the  idiotic  cabman;  the  next  they  would 
make  his  wife  angry  by  saying  it  must  be  her  fault  as  well  as 
his,  and  by  leaving  ill-bred  though  well-meant  shabby  little 
books  for  them  to  read,  which  they  were  sure  to  hate  the  sight 
of;  while  all  the  time  they  would  not  have  put  out  a  finger  to 
touch  the  wailing  baby.  But  Diamond  had  him  out  of  the 
cradle  in  a  moment,  set  him  up  on  his  knee,  and  told  him  to 
look  at  the  light.    Now  all  the  light  there  was  came  only  from 

[161] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

a  lamp  in  the  yard,  and  it  was  a  very  dingy  and  yellow  light, 
for  the  glass  of  the  lamp  was  dirty,  and  the  gas  was  bad;  but 
the  light  that  came  from  it  was,  notwithstanding,  as  certainly 
light  as  if  it  had  come  from  the  sun  itself,  and  the  baby  knew 
that,  and  smiled  to  it;  and  although  it  was  indeed  a  wretched 
room  which  that  lamp  lighted — so  dreary,  and  dirty,  and 
empty,  and  hopeless! — there  in  the  middle  of  it  sat  Diamond 
on  a  stool,  smiling  to  the  baby,  and  the  baby  on  his  knees 
smiling  to  the  lamp.  The  father  of  him  sat  staring  at  nothing, 
neither  asleep  nor  awake,  not  quite  lost  in  stupidity  either, 
for  through  it  all  he  was  dimly  angry  with  himself,  he  did  not 
know  why.  It  was  that  he  had  struck  his  wife.  He  had  for- 
gotten it,  but  was  miserable  about  it,  notwithstanding.  And 
this  misery  was  the  voice  of  the  great  Love  that  had  made 
him  and  his  wife  and  the  baby  and  Diamond,  speaking  in 
his  heart,  and  telling  him  to  be  good.  For  that  great  Love 
speaks  in  the  most  wretched  and  dirty  hearts;  only  the  tone 
of  its  voice  depends  on  the  echoes  of  the  place  in  which  it 
sounds.  On  Mount  Sinai,  it  was  thunder;  in  the  cabman's 
heart  it  was  misery;  in  the  soul  of  St.  John  it  was  perfect 
blessedness. 

By  and  by  he  became  aware  that  there  was  a  voice  of  sing- 
ing in  the  room.  This,  of  course,  was  the  voice  of  Diamond 
singing  to  the  baby — song  after  song,  every  one  as  foolish  as 
another  to  the  cabman,  for  he  was  too  tipsy  to  part  one  word 
from  another:  all  the  words  mixed  up  in  his  ear  in  a  gurgle 
without  division  or  stop;  for  such  was  the  way  he  spoke  him- 
self, when  he  was  in  this  horrid  condition.  But  the  baby  was 
more  than  content  with  Diamond's  songs,  and  Diamond  him- 

[  162] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

self  was  so  contented  with  what  the  songs  were  all  about,  that 
he  did  not  care  a  bit  about  the  songs  themselves,  if  only  baby 
liked  them.  But  they  did  the  cabman  good  as  well  as  the 
baby  and  Diamond,  for  they  put  him  to  sleep,  and  the  sleep 
was  busy  all  the  time  it  lasted,  smoothing  the  wrinkles  out  of 
his  temper. 

At  length  Diamond  grew  tired  of  singing,  and  began  to  talk 
to  the  baby  instead.  And  as  soon  as  he  stopped  singing,  the 
cabman  began  to  wake  up.  His  brain  was  a  little  clearer  now, 
his  temper  a  little  smoother,  and  his  heart  not  quite  so  dirty. 
He  began  to  listen  and  he  went  on  listening,  and  heard  Dia- 
mond saying  to  the  baby  something  like  this,  for  he  thought 
the  cabman  was  asleep : 

"Poor  daddy !  Baby's  daddy  takes  too  much  beer  and  gin, 
and  that  makes  him  somebody  else,  and  not  his  own  self  at  all. 
Baby's  daddy  would  never  hit  baby's  mammy  if  he  didn't  take 
too  much  beer.  He's  very  fond  of  baby's  mammy,  and  works 
from  morning  to  night  to  get  her  breakfast  and  dinner  and 
supper,  only  at  night  he  forgets,  and  pays  the  money  away  for 
beer.  And  they  put  nasty  stuff  in  the  beer,  I've  heard  my 
daddy  say,  that  drives  all  the  good  out,  and  lets  all  the  bad  in. 
Daddy  says  when  a  man  takes  to  drink,  there's  a  thirsty  devil 
creeps  into  his  inside,  because  he  knows  he  will  always  get 
enough  there.  And  the  devil  is  always  crying  out  for  more 
drink,  and  that  makes  the  man  thirsty,  and  so  he  drinks  more 
and  more,  till  he  kills  himself  with  it.  And  then  the  ugly  devil 
creeps  out  of  him,  and  crawls  about  on  his  belly,  looking  for 
some  other  cabman  to  get  into,  that  he  may  drink,  drink,  drink. 
That's  what  my  daddy  says,  baby.    And  he  says,  too,  the  only 

[163] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

way  to  make  the  devil  come  out,  is  to  give  him  plenty  of  cold 
water  and  tea  and  coffee,  and  nothing  at  all  that  comes  from 
the  public-house;  for  the  devil  can't  abide  that  kind  of  stuff, 
and  creeps  out  pretty  soon,  for  fear  of  being  drowned  in  it. 
But  your  daddy  will  drink  the  nasty  stuff,  poor  man!  I  wish 
he  wouldn't,  for  it  makes  mammy  cross  with  him,  and  no 
wonder!  and  then  when  mammy's  cross,  he's  crosser,  and 
there's  nobody  in  the  house  to  take  care  of  them  but  baby;  and 
you  do  take  care  of  them,  baby — don't  you,  baby?  I  know  you 
do.  Babies  always  take  care  of  their  fathers  and  mothers — 
don't  they,  baby?  That's  what  they  come  for — isn't  it,  baby? 
And  when  daddy  stops  drinking  beer  and  nasty  gin  with  tur- 
pentine in  it,  father  says,  then  mammy  will  be  so  happy,  and 
look  so  pretty!  and  daddy  will  be  so  good  to  baby!  and  baby 
will  be  as  happy  as  a  swallow,  which  is  the  merriest  fellow! 
And  Diamond  will  be  so  happy  too !  And  when  Diamond's  a 
man,  he'll  take  baby  out  with  him  on  the  box,  and  teach  him 
to  drive  a  cab." 

He  went  on  with  chatter  like  this  till  baby  was  asleep,  by 
which  time  he  was  tired,  and  father  and  mother  were  both  wide 
awake, — only  rather  confused — the  one  from  the  beer,  the 
other  from  the  blow — and  staring,  the  one  from  his  chair,  the 
other  from  her  bed,  at  Diamond.  But  he  was  quite  unaware 
of  their  notice,  for  he  sat  half -asleep,  with  his  eyes  wide  open, 
staring  in  his  turn,  though  without  knowing  it,  at  the  cabman, 
while  the  cabman  could  not  withdraw  his  gaze  from  Diamond's 
white  face  and  big  eyes.  For  Diamond's  face  was  always  rather 
pale,  and  now  it  was  paler  than  usual  with  sleeplessness,  and  the 
light  of  the  street-lamp  upon  it.    At  length  he  found  himself 

[  164  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

nodding,  and  he  knew  then  it  was  time  to  put  the  baby  down, 
lest  he  should  let  him  fall.  So  he  rose  from  the  little  three- 
legged  stool,  and  laid  the  baby  in  the  cradle,  and  covered  him 
up — it  was  well  it  was  a  warm  night,  and  he  did  not  want  much 
covering — and  then  he  all  but  staggered  out  of  the  door,  he 
was  so  tipsy  himself  with  sleep. 

"Wife,"  said  the  cabman,  turning  towards  the  bed,  "I  do 
somehow  believe  that  wur  a  angel  just  gone.  Did  you  see  him, 
wife?  He  warn't  wery  big,  and  he  hadn't  got  none  o'  them 
wingses,  you  know.  It  wur  one  o'  them  baby-angels  you  sees 
on  the  gravestones,  you  know." 

"Nonsense,  hubby!"  said  his  wife;  "but  it's  just  as  good. 
I  might  say  better,  for  you  can  ketch  hold  of  him  when  you 
like.  That's  little  Diamond  as  everybody  knows,  and  a  duck 
o'  diamonds  he  is !  No  woman  could  wish  for  a  better  child 
than  he  be." 

"I  ha'  heerd  on  him  in  the  stable,  but  I  never  see  the  brat 
afore.  Come,  old  girl,  let  bygones  be  bygones,  and  gie  us  a 
kiss,  and  we'll  go  to  bed." 

The  cabman  kept  his  cab  in  another  yard,  although  he  had 
his  room  in  this.  He  was  often  late  in  coming  home,  and  was 
not  one  to  take  notice  of  children,  especially  when  he  was  tipsy, 
which  was  oftener  than  not.  Hence,  if  he  had  ever  seen  Dia- 
mond, he  did  not  know  him.  But  his  wife  knew  him  well 
enough,  as  did  every  one  else  who  lived  all  day  in  the  yard. 
She  was  a  good-natured  woman.  It  was  she  who  had  got  the 
fire  lighted  and  the  tea  ready  for  them  when  Diamond  and  his 
mother  came  home  from  Sandwich.  And  her  husband  was  not 
an  ill-natured  man  either,  and  when  in  the  morning  he  recalled 

[165] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

not  only  Diamond's  visit,  but  how  he  himself  had  behaved  to 
his  wife,  he  was  very  vexed  with  himself,  and  gladdened  his 
poor  wife's  heart  by  telling  her  how  sorry  he  was.  And  for  a 
whole  week  after,  he  did  not  go  near  the  public-house,  hard  as 
it  was  to  avoid  it,  seeing  a  certain  rich  brewer  had  built  one, 
like  a  trap  to  catch  souls  and  bodies  in,  at  almost  every  corner 
he  had  to  pass  on  his  way  home.  Indeed,  he  was  never  quite 
so  bad  after  that,  though  it  was  some  time  before  he  began 
really  to  reform. 


[166] 


CHAPTER  XIX 
DIAMOND'S  FRIENDS 

ONE  day  when  old  Diamond  was  standing  with  his 
nose  in  his  bag  between  Pall  Mall  and  Cockspur 
Street,  and  his  master  was  reading  the  newspaper  on 
the  box  of  his  cab,  which  was  the  last  of  a  good  many  in  the 
row,  little  Diamond  got  down  for  a  run,  for  his  legs  were  getting 
cramped  with  sitting.  And  first  of  all  he  strolled  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets  up  to  the  crossing,  where  the  girl  and  her  broom 
were  to  be  found  in  all  weathers.  Just  as  he  was  going  to 
speak  to  her,  a  tall  gentleman  stepped  upon  the  crossing.  He 
was  pleased  to  find  it  so  clean,  for  the  streets  were  muddy, 
and  he  had  nice  boots  on;  so  he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
and  gave  the  girl  a  penny.  But  when  she  gave  him  a  sweet 
smile  in  return,  and  made  him  a  pietty  courtesy,  he  looked  at 
her  again,  and  said: 

"Where  do  you  live,  my  child?" 

"Paradise  Row,"  she  answered;  "next  door  to  the  Adam 
and  Eve — down  the  area." 

"Whom  do  you  live  with?"  he  asked. 

"My  wicked  old  grannie,"  she  replied. 

"You  shouldn't  call  your  grannie  wicked,"  said  the  gentle- 
man. 

"But  she  is,"  said  the  girl,  looking  up  confidently  in  his 
face.  "  If  you  don't  believe  me,  you  can  come  and  take  a  look 
at  her." 

[  167  J 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  words  sounded  rude,  but  the  girl's  face  looked  so  simple 
that  the  gentleman  saw  she  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  and  be- 
came still  more  interested  in  her. 

"Still  you  shouldn't  say  so,"  he  insisted. 

"Shouldn't  I?  Everybody  calls  her  wicked  old  grannie — 
even  them  that's  as  wicked  as  her.  You  should  hear  her  swear. 
There's  nothing  like  it  in  the  How.  Indeed,  I  assure  you,  sir, 
there's  ne'er  a  one  of  them  can  shut  my  grannie  up  once  she 
begins  and  gets  right  a-going.  You  must  put  her  in  a  passion 
first,  you  know.  It's  no  good  till  you  do  that — she's  so  old 
now.    How  she  do  make  them  laugh,  to  be  sure!" 

Although  she  called  her  wicked,  the  child  spoke  so  as 
plainly  to  indicate  pride  in  her  grannie's  pre-eminence  in 
swearing. 

The  gentleman  looked  very  grave  to  hear  her,  for  he  was 
sorry  that  such  a  nice  little  girl  should  be  in  such  bad  keeping. 
But  he  did  not  know  what  to  say  next,  and  stood  for  a  moment 
with  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  When  he  lifted  them,  he  saw  the 
face  of  Diamond  looking  up  in  his. 

"Please,  sir,"  said  Diamond,  "her  grannie's  very  cruel  to 
her  sometimes,  and  shuts  her  out  in  the  streets  at  night,  if  she 
happens  to  be  late." 

"Is  this  your  brother?"  asked  the  gentleman  of  the  girl. 

"No,  sir." 

"How  does  he  know  your  grandmother,  then?  He  does 
not  look  like  one  of  her  sort." 

"On  no,  sir!    He's  a  good  boy — quite." 

Here  she  tapped  her  forehead  with  her  finger  in  a  significant 
manner. 

[168] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  the  gentleman,  while 
Diamond  looked  on  smiling. 

"The  cabbies  call  him  God's  baby,"  she  whispered.  "He's 
not  right  in  the  head,  you  know.    A  tile  loose." 

Still  Diamond,  though  he  heard  every  word,  and  understood 
it  too,  kept  on  smiling.  What  could  it  matter  what  people 
called  him,  so  long  as  he  did  nothing  he  ought  not  to  do? 
And,  besides,  God's  baby  was  surely  the  best  of  names! 

"Well,  my  little  man,  and  what  can  you  do?"  asked  the 
gentleman,  turning  towards  him — just  for  the  sake  of  saying 
something. 

"Drive  a  cab,"  said  Diamond. 

"Good;  and  what  else?"  he  continued;  for,  accepting  what 
the  girl  had  said,  he  regarded  the  still  sweetness  of  Diamond's 
face  as  a  sign  of  silliness,  and  wished  to  be  kind  to  the  poor 
little  fellow. 

"Nurse  a  baby,"  said  Diamond. 

"Well— and  what  else?" 

"  Clean  father's  boots,  and  make  him  a  bit  of  toast  for  his 
tea." 

"You're  a  useful  little  man,"  said  the  gentleman.  "What 
else  can  you  do?" 

"  Not  much  that  I  know  of,"  said  Diamond.  "  I  can't  curry 
a  horse,  except  somebody  puts  me  on  his  back.  So  I  don't 
count  that." 

"Can  you  read?" 

"No;  but  mother  can  and  father  can,  and  they're  going  to 
teach  me  some  day  soon." 

"Well,  here's  a  penny  for  you." 

[169] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Thank  you,  sir." 

"And  when  you  have  learned  to  read,  come  to  me,  and  I'll 
give  you  sixpence  and  a  book  with  fine  pictures  in  it." 

"Please,  sir,  where  am  I  to  come?"  asked  Diamond,  who 
was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world  not  to  know  that  he  must 
have  the  gentleman's  address  before  he  could  go  and  see 
him. 

"You're  no  such  silly!"  thought  he,  as  he  put  his  hand 
in  his  pocket,  and  brought  out  a  card.  "There,"  he  said, 
"your  father  will  be  able  to  read  that,  and  tell  you  where 
to  go." 

"Yes,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Diamond,  and  put  the 
card  in  his  pocket. 

The  gentleman  walked  away,  but  turning  round  a  few  paces 
off,  saw  Diamond  give  his  penny  to  the  girl,  and,  walking 
slower,  heard  him  say: 

"I've  got  a  father,  and  mother,  and  little  brother,  and 
you've  got  nothing  but  a  wicked  old  grannie.  You  may  have 
my  penny." 

The  girl  put  it  beside  the  other  in  her  pocket,  the  only 
trustworthy  article  of  dress  she  wore.  Her  grandmother  al- 
ways took  care  that  she  had  a  stout  pocket. 

"Is  she  as  cruel  as  ever?"  asked  Diamond. 

"  Much  the  same.  But  I  gets  more  coppers  now  than  I  used 
to,  and  I  can  get  summats  to  eat,  and  take  browns  enough 
home  besides  to  keep  her  from  grumbling.  It's  a  good  thing 
she's  so  blind,  though." 

"Why?"  asked  Diamond. 

"'Cause  if  she  was  as  sharp  in  the  eyes  as  she  used  to  be, 

f  170] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

she  would  find  out  I  never  eats  her  broken  wittles,  and  then 
she'd  know  as  I  must  get  something  somewheres." 

"Doesn't  she  watch  you,  then?" 

"O'  course  she  do.  Don't  she  just!  But  I  make  believe 
and  drop  it  in  my  lap,  and  then  hitch  it  into  my  pocket." 

"What  would  she  do  if  she  found  you  out?" 

"She'd  never  give  me  no  more." 

"But  you  don't  want  it!" 

"Yes,  I  do  want  it." 

"What  do  you  do  with  it,  then?" 

"Give  it  to  cripple  Jim." 

"Who's  cripple  Jim?" 

"A  boy  in  the  Row,  His  mother  broke  his  leg  when  he  wur 
a  kid,  so  he's  never  come  to  much;  but  he's  a  good  boy,  is 
Jim,  and  I  love  Jim  dearly.  I  always  keeps  off  a  penny  for 
Jim — leastways  as  often,  as  I  can. — But  there,  I  must  sweep 
again,  for  them  busses  makes  no  end  o'  dirt." 

"Diamond!  Diamond!"  cried  his  father,  who  was  afraid  he 
might  get  no  good  by  talking  to  the  girl;  and  Diamond  obeyed, 
and  got  up  again  upon  the  box.  He  told  his  father  about  the 
gentleman,  and  what  he  had  promised  him  if  he  would  learn  to 
read,  and  showed  him  the  gentleman's  card. 

"  Why,  it's  not  many  doors  from  the  Mews !"  said  his  father, 
giving  him  back  the  card.  "Take  care  of  it,  my  boy,  for  it 
may  lead  to  something.  God  knows,  in  these  hard  times  a  man 
wants  as  many  friends  as  he's  ever  likely  to  get." 

"Haven't  you  got  friends  enough,  father?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Well,  I  have  no  right  to  complain;  but  the  more  the 
better,  you  know." 

[171] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Just  let  me  count/'  said  Diamond. 

And  he  took  his  hands  from  his  pockets,  and  spreading  out 
the  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  began  to  count,  beginning  at  the 
thumb. 

"There's  mother  first;  and  then  baby,  and  then  me.  Next 
there's  old  Diamond — and  the  cab — no,  I  won't  count  the 
cab,  for  it  never  looks  at  you,  and  when  Diamond's  out  of  the 
shafts,  it's  nobody.  Then  there's  the  man  that  drinks  next 
door,  and  his  wife,  and  his  baby." 

"They're  no  friends  of  mine,"  said  his  father. 

"Well,  they're  friends  of  mine,"  said  Diamond. 

His  father  laughed. 

"Much  good  they'll  do  you!"  he  said. 

"How  do  you  know  they  won't?"  returned  Diamond. 

"Well,  go  on,"  said  his  father. 

"Then  there's  Jack  and  Mr.  Stonecrop,  and,  deary  me!  not 
to  have  mentioned  Mr.  Coleman  and  Mrs.  Coleman,  and  Miss 
Coleman,  and  Mrs.  Crump.  And  then  there's  the  clergyman 
that  spoke  to  me  in  the  garden  that  day  the  tree  was  blown 
down." 

"What's  his  name?" 

"I  don't  know  his  name." 

"Where  does  he  live?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"How  can  you  count  him,  then?" 

"He  did  talk  to  me,  and  very  kindlike  too." 

His  father  laughed  again. 

"Why,  child,  you're  just  counting  everybody  you  know. 

That  don't  make  'em  friends." 

[172] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Don't  it?  I  thought  it  did.  Well,  but  they  shall  be  my 
friends.    I  shall  make  'em." 

"How  will  you  do  that?" 

"They  can't  help  themselves  then,  if  they  would.  If  I 
choose  to  be  their  friend,  you  know,  they  can't  prevent  me. 
Then  there's  that  girl  at  the  crossing." 

"A  fine  set  of  friends  you  do  have,  to  be  sure,  Diamond!" 

"Surely  she's  a  friend  anyhow,  father.  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  her,  you  would  never  have  got  Mrs.  Coleman  and  Miss 
Coleman  to  carry  home." 

His  father  was  silent,  for  he  saw  that  Diamond  was  right, 
and  was  ashamed  to  find  himself  more  ungrateful  than  he  had 
thought. 

"Then  there's  the  new  gentleman,"  Diamond  went  on. 

"If  he  do  as  he  say,"  interposed  his  father. 

"  And  why  shouldn't  he?  I  daresay  sixpence  ain't  too  much 
for  him  to  spare.  But  I  don't  quite  understand,  father:  is 
nobody  your  friend  but  the  one  that  does  something  for  you?" 

"  No,  I  won't  say  that,  my  boy.  You  would  have  to  leave 
out  baby  then." 

"Oh  no,  I  shouldn't.  Baby  can  laugh  in  your  face,  and 
crow  in  your  ears,  and  make  you  feel  so  happy.  Call  you  that 
nothing,  father?" 

The  father's  heart  was  fairly  touched  now.  He  made  no 
answer  to  this  last  appeal,  and  Diamond  ended  off  with  saying: 

"  And  there's  the  best  of  mine  to  come  yet — and  that's  you, 
daddy — except  it  be  mother,  you  know.  You're  my  friend, 
daddy,  ain't  you?    And  I'm  your  friend,  ain't  I?" 

"And  God  for  us  all,"  said  his  father,  and  then  they  were 
both  silent,  for  that  was  very  solemn. 

[173] 


CHAPTER  XX 
DIAMOND  LEARNS  TO  READ 

THE  question  of  the  tall  gentleman  as  to  whether  Dia- 
mond could  read  or  not,  set  his  father  thinking  it  was 
high  time  he  could;  and  as  soon  as  old  Diamond  was 
suppered  and  bedded,  he  began  the  task  that  very  night.  But 
it  was  not  much  of  a  task  to  Diamond,  for  his  father  took  for 
his  lesson-book  those  very  rhymes  his  mother  had  picked  up 
on  the  sea-shore;  and  as  Diamond  was  not  beginning  too  soon, 
he  learned  very  fast  indeed.  Within  a  month  he  was  able  to 
spell  out  most  of  the  verses  for  himself. 

But  he  had  never  come  upon  the  poem  he  thought  he  had 
heard  his  mother  read  from  it  that  day.  He  had  looked  through 
and  through  the  book  several  times  after  he  knew  the  letters 
and  a  few  words,  fancying  he  could  tell  the  look  of  it,  but  had 
always  failed  to  find  one  more  like  it  than  another.  So  he  wisely 
gave  up  the  search  till  he  cou^d  really  read.  Then  he  resolved 
to  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  read  them  all  straight  through. 
This  took  him  nearly  a  fortnight.  When  he  had  almost  reached 
the  end,  he  came  upon  the  following  verses,  which  took  his 
fancy  much,  although  they  were  certainly  not  very  like  those 
he  was  in  search  of. 

LITTLE  BOY  BLUE 

Little  Boy  Blue  lost  his  way  in  a  wood. 

Sing  apples  and  cherries,  roses  and  honey; 
He  said,  "  I  would  not  go  back  if  I  could, 

It' 's  all  so  jolly  and  funny" 

[174] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

He  sang,  "This  wood  is  all  my  own, 

Apples  and  cherries,  roses  and  honey; 
So  here  I'll  sit,  like  a  king  on  my  throne, 

All  so  jolly  and  funny." 

A  little  snake  crept  out  of  the  tree, 

Apples  and  cherries,  roses  and  honey; 
"Lie  down  at  my  feet,  little  snake,"  said  he, 

All  so  jolly  and  funny. 

A  little  bird  sang  in  the  tree  overhead, 

Apples  and  cherries,  roses  and  honey; 
"Come  and  sing  your  song  on  my  finger  instead, 

All  so  jolly  and  funny." 

The  snake  coiled  up;  and  the  bird  flew  down, 
And  sang  him  the  song  of  Birdie  Brown. 

Little  Boy  Blue  found  it  tiresome  to  sit, 
And  he  thought  he  had  better  walk  on  a  bit. 

So  up  he  got,  his  way  to  take, 

And  he  said,  "  Come  along,  little  bird  and  snake." 

And  waves  of  snake  o'er  the  damp  leaves  passed, 
And  the  snake  went  first  and  Birdie  Brown  last; 

By  Boy  Blue's  head,  with  flutter  and  dart, 
Flew  Birdie  Brown  with  its  song  in  its  heart. 

He  came  where  the  apples  grew  red  and  sweet; 
"Tree,  drop  me  an  apple  down  at  my  feet." 

He  came  where  the  cherries  hung  plump  and  red; 
"Come  to  my  mouth,  sweet  kisses,"  he  said. 

And  the  boughs  bow  down,  and  the  apples  they  dapple 
The  grass,  too  many  for  him  to  grapple. 

And  the  cherriest  cherries,  with  never  a  miss, 
Fall  to  his  mouth,  each  a  full-grown  kiss. 

[  175] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

He  met  a  little  brook  singing  a  song. 

He  said,  "Little  brook,  you  are  going  wrong. 

"You  must  follow  me,  follow  me,  follow,  I  say, 
Do  as  I  tell  you,  and  come  this  way." 

And  the  song-singing,  sing-songing  forest  brook 
Leaped  from  its  bed  and  after  him  took, 

Followed  him,  followed.     And  pale  and  wan, 
The  dead  leaves  rustled  as  the  water  ran. 

And  every  bird  high  up  on  the  bough, 
And  every  creature  low  down  below, 

He  called  and  the  creatures  obeyed  the  call, 

Took  their  legs  and  their  wings  and  followed  him  all; 

Squirrels  that  carried  their  tails  like  a  sack, 
Each  on  his  own  little  humpy  brown  back; 

Householder  snails,  and  slugs  all  tails, 
And  butterflies,  flutterbies,  ships  all  sails; 

And  weasels,  and  ousels,  and  mice,  and  larks, 
And  owls,  and  rere-mice,  and  harkydarks. 

All  went  running,  and  creeping,  and  flowing, 
After  the  merry  boy  fluttering  and  going; 

The  dappled  fawns  fawning,  the  fallow-deer  following, 
The  swallows  and  flies,  flying  and  swallowing; 

Cockchafers,  henchafers,  cockioli-birds, 
Cockroaches,  henroaches,  cuckoos  in  herds. 

The  spider  forgot  and  followed  him  spinning, 
And  lost  all  his  thread  from  end  to  beginning. 

The  gay  wasp  forgot  his  rings  and  his  waist, 
He  never  had  made  such  undignified  haste. 

[176] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  dragon-flies  melted  to  mist  with  their  hurrying. 
The  mole  in  his  moleskins  left  his  harrowing  burrowing. 

The  bees  went  buzzing,  so  busy  and  beesy, 
And  the  midges  in  columns  so  upright  and  easy. 

But  Little  Boy  Blue  was  not  content, 
Calling  for  followers  still  as  he  went, 

Blowing  his  horn,  and  beating  his  drum, 
And  crying  aloud,  "Come  all  of  you,  come!" 

He  said  to  the  shadows,  "Come  after  me;" 
And  the  shadows  began  to  flicker  and  flee, 

And  they  flew  through  the  wood  all  flattering  and  fluttering 
Over  the  dead  leaves  flickering  and  muttering. 

And  he  said  to  the  wind,  "Come,  follow;  come,  follow, 
With  whistle  and  pipe,  and  rustle  and  hollo." 

And  the  wind  wound  round  at  his  desire, 
As  if  he  had  been  the  gold  cock  on  the  spire. 

And  the  cock  itself  flew  down  from  the  church, 
And  left  the  farmers  all  in  the  lurch. 

They  run  and  they  fly,  they  creep  and  they  come, 
Everything,  everything,  all  and  some. 

The  very  trees  they  tugged  at  their  roots, 
Only  their  feet  were  too  fast  in  their  boots, 

After  him  leaning  and  straining  and  bending, 

As  on  through  their  boles  he  kept  walking  and  wendling, 

Till  out  of  the  wood  he  burst  on  a  lea, 
Shouting  and  calling,  "  Come  after  me ! " 

And  then  they  rose  up  with  a  leafy  hiss, 
And  stood  as  if  nothing  had  been  amiss. 

[177] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Little  Boy  Blue  sat  down  on  a  stone, 

And  the  creatures  came  round  him  every  one. 

And  he  said  to  the  clouds,  "I  want  you  there;" 
And  down  they  sank  through  the  thin  blue  air. 

And  he  said  to  the  sunset  far  in  the  west, 
"Come  here;  I  want  you;  I  know  best." 

And  the  sunset  came  and  stood  up  on  the  wold, 
And  burned  and  glowed  in  purple  and  gold. 

Then  Little  Boy  Blue  began  to  ponder: 
"What's  to  be  done  with  them  all,  I  wonder." 

Then  Little  Boy  Blue,  he  said,  quite  low, 

"What  to  do  with  you  all  I  am  sure  I  don't  know." 

Then  the  clouds  clodded  down  till  dismal  it  grew; 
The  snake  sneaked  close;  round  Birdie  Brown  flew; 

The  brook  sat  up  like  a  snake  on  its  tail; 

And  the  wind  came  up  with  a  what-will-you  wail; 

And  all  the  creatures  sat  and  stared; 

The  mole  opened  his  very  eyes  and  glared; 

And  for  rats  and  bats  and  the  world  and  his  wife, 
Little  Boy  Blue  was  afraid  of  his  life. 

Then  Birdie  Brown  began  to  sing, 
And  what  he  sang  was  the  very  thing: 

"You  have  brought  us  all  hither,  Little  Boy  Blue, 
Pray  what  do  you  want  us  all  to  do?" 

"Go  away!  go  away!"  said  Little  Boy  Blue; 
"I'm  sure  I  don't  want  you — get  away — do." 

"No,  no;  no,  no;  no,  yes,  and  no,  no," 
Sang  Birdie  Brown,  "it  mustn't  be  so. 

[178] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"We  cannot  for  nothing  come  here,  and  away. 
Give  us  some  work,  or  else  we  stay." 

"Oh  dear!  and  oh  dear!"  with  sob  and  with  sigh, 
Said  Little  Boy  Blue,  and  began  to  cry. 

But  before  he  got  far,  he  thought  of  a  thing; 
And  up  he  stood,  and  spoke  like  a  king. 

"Why  do  you  hustle  and  jostle  and  bother? 

Off  with  you  all!     Take  me  back  to  my  mother." 

The  sunset  stood  at  the  gates  of  the  west. 

"Follow  me,  follow  me,"  came  from  Birdie  Brown's  breast. 

"  I  am  going  that  way  as  fast  as  I  can," 

Said  the  brook,  as  it  sank  and  turned  and  ran. 

Back  to  the  woods  fled  the  shadows  like  ghosts; 
"If  we  stay,  we  shall  all  be  missed  from  our  posts." 

Said  the  wind  with  a  voice  that  had  changed  its  cheer, 
"I  was  just  going  there,  when  you  brought  me  here." 

"That's  where  I  live,"  said  the  sack-backed  squirrel, 
And  he  turned  his  sack  with  a  swing  and  a  swirl. 

Said  the  cock  of  the  spire,  "His  father's  churchwarden." 
Said  the  brook  running  faster,  "I  run  through  his  garden." 

Said  the  mole,  "Two  hundred  worms — there  I  caught  'em 
Last  year,  and  I'm  going  again  next  autumn." 

Said  they  all,  "  If  that's  where  you  want  us  to  steer  for, 
What  in  earth  or  in  water  did  you  bring  us  here  for?  " 

"Never  you  mind,"  said  Little  Boy  Blue; 
"That's  what  I  tell  you.     If  that  you  won't  do, 

"  I'll  get  up  at  once,  and  go  home  without  you. 
I  think  I  will;  I  begin  to  doubt  you." 

[  179] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

He  rose;  and  up  rose  the  snake  on  its  tail, 
And  hissed  three  times,  half  a  hiss,  half  a  wail. 

Little  Boy  Blue  he  tried  to  go  past  him; 

But  wherever  he  turned,  sat  the  snake  and  faced  him. 

"If  you  don't  get  out  of  my  way,"  he  said, 
"I  tell  you,  snake,  I  will  break  your  head." 

The  snake  he  neither  would  go  nor  come; 

So  he  hit  him  hard  with  the  stick  of  his  drum. 

The  snake  fell  down  as  if  he  were  dead, 
And  Little  Boy  Blue  set  his  foot  on  his  head. 

And  all  the  creatures  they  marched  before  him, 
And  marshalled  him  home  with  a  high  cockolorum. 

And  Birdie  Brown  sang  Twirrrr  twitter  twirrrr  twee — ■ 

Apples  and  cherries,  roses  and  honey; 
Little  Boy  Blue  has  listened  to  me — 

All  so  jolly  and  funny. 


[180] 


CHAPTER  XXI 
SAL'S  NANNY 

DIAMOND  managed  with  many  blunders  to  read  this 
rhyme  to  his  mother. 
"Isn't  it  nice,  mother?"  he  said. 
"Yes,  it's  pretty,"  she  answered. 
"I  think  it  means  something,"  returned  Diamond. 
"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what,"  she  said. 
"I  wonder  if  it's  the  same  boy — yes,  it  must  be  the  same — 
Little  Boy  Blue,  you  know.    Let  me  see — how  does  that  rhyme 
go? 

Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  me  your  horn — 

Yes,  of  course  it  is — for  this  one  went  *  blowing  his  horn  and 
beating  his  drum.'    He  had  a  drum  too. 

Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  me  your  horn; 

The  sheep's  in  the  meadow,  the  cow's  in  the  corn. 

He  had  to  keep  them  out,  you  know.    But  he  wasn't  minding 
his  work.    It  goes — 

Where's  the  little  boy  that  looks  after  the  sheep? 
He's  under  the  haystack,  fast  asleep. 

There,  you  see,  mother!    And  then,  let  me  see — 

Who'll  go  and  wake  him?     No,  not  I; 
For  if  I  do,  he'll  be  sure  to  cry. 

[181] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

So  I  suppose  nobody  did  wake  him.  He  was  a  rather  cross 
little  boy,  I  dare  say,  when  woke  up.  And  when  he  did  wake 
of  himself,  and  saw  the  mischief  the  cow  had  done  to  the  corn, 
instead  of  running  home  to  his  mother,  he  ran  away  into  the 
wood  and  lost  himself.  Don't  you  think  that's  very  likely, 
mother?" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  she  answered. 

"  So  you  see  he  was  naughty ;  for  even  when  he  lost  himself 
he  did  not  want  to  go  home.  Any  of  the  creatures  would  have 
shown  him  the  way  if  he  had  asked  it — all  but  the  snake.  He 
followed  the  snake,  you  know,  and  he  took  him  farther  away. 
I  suppose  it  was  a  young  one  of  the  same  serpent  that  tempted 
Adam  and  Eve.  Father  was  telling  us  about  it  last  Sunday, 
you  remember." 

"Bless  the  child!"  said  his  mother  to  herself;  and  then 
added  aloud,  finding  that  Diamond  did  not  go  on,  "Well,  what 
next?" 

"  I  don't  know,  mother.  I'm  sure  there's  a  great  deal  more, 
but  what  it  is  I  can't  say.  I  only  know  that  he  killed  the  snake. 
I  suppose  that's  what  he  had  a  drumstick  for.  He  couldn't  do 
it  with  his  horn." 

"  But  surely  you're  not  such  a  silly  as  to  take  it  all  for  true, 
Diamond?" 

"I  think  it  must  be.  It  looks  true.  That  killing  of  the 
snake  looks  true.    It's  what  I've  got  to  do  so  often." 

His  mother  looked  uneasy.  Diamond  smiled  full  in  her 
face,  and  added — 

"When  baby  cries  and  won't  be  happy,  and  when  father 
and  you  talk  about  your  troubles,  I  mean." 

[182] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

This  did  little  to  reassure  his  mother;  and  lest  my  reader 
should  have  his  qualms  about  it  too,  I  venture  to  remind  him 
once  more  that  Diamond  had  been  to  the  back  of  the  north 
wind. 

Finding  she  made  no  reply,  Diamond  went  on — 

"In  a  week  or  so,  I  shall  be  able  to  go  to  the  tall  gentleman 
and  tell  him  I  can  read.  And  I'll  ask  him  if  he  can  help  me 
to  understand  the  rhyme." 

But  before  the  week  was  out,  he  had  another  reason  for 
going  to  Mr.  Raymond. 

For  three  days,  on  each  of  which,  at  one  time  or  other, 
Diamond's  father  was  on  the  same  stand  near  the  National 
Gallery,  the  girl  was  not  at  her  crossing,  and  Diamond  got 
quite  anxious  about  her,  fearing  she  must  be  ill.  On  the  fourth 
day,  not  seeing  her  yet,  he  said  to  his  father,  who  had  that 
moment  shut  the  door  of  his  cab  upon  a  fare — 

"Father,  I  want  to  go  and  look  after  the  girl.  She  can't  be 
well." 

"All  right,"  said  his  father.  "Only  take  care  of  yourself, 
Diamond." 

So  saying  he  climbed  on  his  box  and  drove  off. 

He  had  great  confidence  in  his  boy,  you  see,  and  would  trust 
him  anywhere.  But  if  he  had  known  the  kind  of  place  in  which 
the  girl  lived,  he  would  perhaps  have  thought  twice  before  he 
allowed  him  to  go  alone.  Diamond,  who  did  know  something 
of  it,  had  not,  however,  any  fear.  From  talking  to  the  girl  he 
had  a  good  notion  of  where  about  it  was,  and  he  remembered 
the  address  well  enough;  so  by  asking  his  way  some  twenty 
times,  mostly  of  policemen,  he  came  at  length  pretty  near  the 

[183] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

place.  The  last  policeman  he  questioned  looked  down  upon 
him  from  the  summit  of  six  feet  two  inches,  and  replied  with 
another  question,  but  kindly : 

"What  do  you  want  there,  my  small  kid?  It  ain't  where 
you  was  bred,  I  guess." 

"No,  sir,  answered  Diamond.    "I  live  in  Bloomsbury." 

"That's  a  long  way  off,"  said  the  policeman. 

"Yes,  it's  a  good  distance,"  answered  Diamond;  "but  I 
find  my  way  about  pretty  well.  Policemen  are  always  kind  to 
me." 

"But  what  on  earth  do  you  want  here?" 

Diamond  told  him  plainly  what  he  was  about,  and  of 
course  the  man  believed  him,  for  nobody  ever  disbelieved  Dia- 
mond. People  might  think  he  was  mistaken,  but  they  never 
thought  he  was  telling  a  story. 

"It's  an  ugly  place,"  said  the  policeman. 

"Is  it  far  off?"  asked  Diamond. 

"No.     It's  next  door  almost.    But  it's  not  safe." 

"Nobody  hurts  me,"  said  Diamond. 

"I  must  go  with  you,  I  suppose." 

"Oh,  no!  please  not,"  said  Diamond.  "They  might  think 
I  was  going  to  meddle  with  them,  and  I  ain't,  you  know." 

"Well,  do  as  you  please,"  said  the  man,  and  gave  him  full 
directions. 

Diamond  set  off,  never  suspecting  that  the  policeman,  who 
was  a  kind-hearted  man,  with  children  of  his  own,  was  follow- 
ing him  close,  and  watching  him  round  every  corner.  As  he 
went  on,  all  at  once  he  thought  he  remembered  the  place,  and 
whether  it  really  was  so,  or  only  that  he  had  laid  up  the  police- 

[184] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

man's  instructions  well  in  his  mind,  he  went  straight  for  the 
cellar  of  old  Sal. 

"He's  a  sharp  little  kid,  anyhow,  for  as  simple  as  he 
looks,"  said  the  man  to  himself.  "Not  a  wrong  turn  does 
he  take!  But  old  Sal's  a  rum  un  for  such  a  child  to  pay 
a  morning  visit  to.  She's  worse  when  she's  sober  than  when 
she's  half  drunk.  I've  seen  her  when  she'd  have  torn  him 
in  pieces." 

Happily  then  for  Diamond,  old  Sal  had  gone  out  to  get 
some  gin.  When  he  came  to  her  door  at  the  bottom  of  the  area- 
stair  and  knocked,  he  received  no  answer.  He  laid  his  ear  to 
the  door,  and  thought  he  heard  a  moaning  within.  So  he  tried 
the  door,  and  found  it  was  not  locked.  It  was  a  dreary  place 
indeed, — and  very  dark,  for  the  window  was  below  the  level  of 
the  street,  and  covered  with  mud,  while  over  the  grating  which 
kept  people  from  falling  into  the  area,  stood  a  chest  of  drawers, 
placed  there  by  a  dealer  in  second-hand  furniture,  which  shut 
out  almost  all  the  light.  And  the  smell  in  the  place  was  dread- 
ful. Diamond  stood  still  for  a  while,  for  he  could  see  next  to 
nothing,  but  he  heard  the  moaning  plainly  enough  now.  When 
he  got  used  to  the  darkness,  he  discovered  his  friend  lying  with 
closed  eyes  and  a  white  suffering  face  on  a  heap  of  little  better 
than  rags  in  a  corner  of  the  den.  He  went  up  to  her  and  spoke, 
but  she  made  him  no  answer.  Indeed,  she  was  not  in  the  least 
aware  of  his  presence,  and  Diamond  saw  that  he  could  do 
nothing  for  her  without  help.  So  taking  a  lump  of  barley- 
sugar  from  his  pocket,  which  he  had  bought  for  her  as  he  came 
along,  and  laying  it  beside  her,  he  left  the  place,  having  already 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  and  see  the  tall  gentleman,  Mr.  Ray- 

[185] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

mond,  and  ask  him  to  do  something  for  Sal's  Nanny,  as  the 
girl  was  called. 

By  the  time  he  got  up  the  area-steps,  three  or  four  women 
who  had  seen  him  go  down  were  standing  together  at  the  top 
waiting  for  him.  They  wanted  his  clothes  for  their  children; 
but  they  did  not  follow  him  down  lest  Sal  should  find  them 
there.  The  moment  he  appeared,  they  laid  their  hands  on 
him,  and  all  began  talking  at  once,  for  each  wanted  to  get 
some  advantage  over  her  neighbours.  He  told  them  quite 
quietly,  for  he  was  not  frightened,  that  he  had  come  to  see  what 
was  the  matter  with  Nanny. 

"What  do  you  know  about  Nanny?"  said  one  of  them 
fiercely.  "Wait  till  old  Sal  comes  home,  and  you'll  catch  it, 
for  going  prying  into  her  house  when  she's  out.  If  you  don't 
give  me  your  jacket  directly,  I'll  go  and  fetch  her." 

"I  can't  give  you  my  jacket,"  said  Diamond.  "It  belongs 
to  my  father  and  mother,  you  know.  It's  not  mine  to  give.  Is 
it  now?  You  would  not  think  it  right  to  give  away  what  wasn't 
yours — would  you  now?" 

"  Give  it  away !  No,  that  I  wouldn't;  I'd  keep  it,"  she  said, 
with  a  rough  laugh.  "But  if  the  jacket  ain't  yours,  what  right 
have  you  to  keep  it?  Here,  Cherry,  make  haste.  It'll  be  one 
go  apiece." 

They  all  began  to  tug  at  the  jacket,  while  Diamond  stooped 
and  kept  his  arms  bent  to  resist  them.  Before  they  had  done 
him  or  the  jacket  any  harm,  however,  suddenly  they  all 
scampered  away;  and  Diamond,  looking  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion, saw  the  tall  policeman  coming  towards  him. 

"You  had  better  have  let  me  come  with  you,  little  man,"  he 

[  180  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

said,  looking  down  in  Diamond's  face,  which  was  flushed  with 
his  resistance. 

"You  came  just  in  the  right  time,  thank  you,"  returned 
Diamond.    "They've  done  me  no  harm." 

"They  would  have  if  I  hadn't  been  at  hand,  though." 

"Yes;  but  you  were  at  hand,  you  know,  so  they  couldn't." 

Perhaps  the  answer  was  deeper  in  purport  than  either  Dia- 
mond or  the  policeman  knew.  They  walked  away  together, 
Diamond  telling  his  new  friend  how  ill  poor  Nanny  was,  and 
that  he  was  going  to  let  the  tall  gentleman  know.  The  police- 
man put  him  in  the  nearest  way  for  Bloomsbury,  and  stepping 
out  in  good  earnest,  Diamond  reached  Mr.  Raymond's  door  in 
less  than  an  hour.  When  he  asked  if  he  was  at  home,  the 
servant,  in  return,  asked  what  he  wanted. 

"I  want  to  tell  him  something." 

"But  I  can't  go  and  trouble  him  with  such  a  message  as 
that." 

"He  told  me  to  come  to  him — that  is,  when  I  could  read — 
and  I  can." 

"How  am  I  to  know  that?" 

Diamond  stared  with  astonishment  for  one  moment,  then 
answered: 

"Why,  I've  just  told  you.    That's  how  you  know  it." 

But  this  man  was  made  of  coarser  grain  than  the  policeman, 
and  instead  of  seeing  that  Diamond  could  not  tell  a  lie,  he  put 
his  answer  down  as  impudence,  and  saying,  "  Do  you  think  I'm 
going  to  take  your  word  for  it?"  shut  the  door  in  his  face. 

Diamond  turned  and  sat  down  on  the  doorstep,  thinking 
with  himself  that  the  tall  gentleman  must  either  come  in  or 

[  187] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

come  out,  and  lie  was  therefore  in  the  best  possible  position 
for  finding  him.  He  had  not  waited  long  before  the  door 
opened  again;  but  when  he  looked  round,  it  was  only  the 
servant  once  more. 

"Get  away,"  he  said.  "What  are  you  doing  on  the  door- 
step?" 

"Waiting  for  Mr.  Raymond,"  answered  Diamond,  getting 
up. 

"He's  not  at  home." 

"Then  I'll  wait  till  he  comes,"  returned  Diamond,  sitting 
down  again  with  a  smile. 

What  the  man  would  have  done  next  I  do  not  know,  but  a 
step  sounded  from  the  hall,  and  when  Diamond  looked  round 
again,  there  was  the  tall  gentleman. 

"Who's  this,  John?"  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.  An  imperent  little  boy  as  will  sit  on  the 
doorstep." 

"Please,  sir,"  said  Diamond,  "he  told  me  you  weren't  at 
home,  and  I  sat  down  to  wait  for  you." 

"Eh,  what!"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "John!  John!  This 
won't  do.  Is  it  a  habit  of  yours  to  turn  away  my  visitors? 
There'll  be  some  one  else  to  turn  away,  I'm  afraid,  if  I  find  any 
more  of  this  kind  of  thing.  Come  in,  my  little  man.  I  suppose 
you've  come  to  claim  your  sixpence?" 

"No,  sir,  not  that." 

"What!  can't  you  read  yet?" 

"Yes,  I  can  now,  a  little.  But  I'll  come  for  that  next  time. 
I  came  to  tell  you  about  Sal's  Nanny." 

"Who's  Sal's  Nanny?" 

[188] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"The  girl  at  the  crossing  you  talked  to  the  same  day." 

"Oh,  yes;  I  remember.  What's  the  matter?  Has  she  got 
run  over?" 

Then  Diamond  told  him  all. 

Now  Mr.  Raymond  was  one  of  the  kindest  men  in  London. 
He  sent  at  once  to  have  the  horse  put  to  the  brougham,  took 
Diamond  with  him,  and  drove  to  the  Children's  Hospital. 
There  he  was  well  known  to  everybody,  for  he  was  not  only  a 
large  subscriber,  but  he  used  to  go  and  tell  the  children  stories 
of  an  afternoon.  One  of  the  doctors  promised  to  go  and  find 
Nanny,  and  do  what  could  be  done — have  her  brought  to  the 
hospital,  if  possible. 

That  same  night  they  sent  a  litter  for  her,  and  as  she  could 
be  of  no  use  to  old  Sal  until  she  was  better,  she  did  not  object 
to  having  her  removed.  So  she  was  soon  lying  in  the  fever 
ward — for  the  first  time  in  her  life  in  a  nice  clean  bed.  But 
she  knew  nothing  of  the  whole  affair.  She  was  too  ill  to  know 
anything. 


[189  J 


CHAPTER  XXII 
MR.  RAYMOND'S  RIDDLE 

MR.  RAYMOND  took  Diamond  home  with  him, 
stopping  at  the  Mews  to  tell  his  mother  that  he 
would  send  him  back  soon.  Diamond  ran  in  with 
the  message  himself,  and  when  he  reappeared  he  had  in  his 
hand  the  torn  and  crumpled  book  which  North  Wind  had 
given  him. 

"Ah!  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Raymond:  "you  are  going  to  claim 
your  sixpence  now." 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  that  so  much  as  of  another  thing," 
said  Diamond.  "There's  a  rhyme  in  this  book  I  can't  quite 
understand.  I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  it  means,  if  you 
please." 

"I  will  if  I  can,"  answered  Mr.  Raymond.  "You  shall 
read  it  to  me  when  we  get  home,  and  then  I  shall  see." 

Still  with  a  good  many  blunders,  Diamond  did  read  it  after 
a  fashion.  Mr.  Raymond  took  the  little  book  and  read  it  over 
again. 

Now  Mr.  Raymond  was  a  poet  himself,  and  so,  although  he 
had  never  been  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind,  he  was  able  to 
understand  the  poem  pretty  well.  But  before  saying  anything 
about  it,  he  read  it  over  aloud,  and  Diamond  thought  he  un- 
derstood it  much  better  already. 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  it  means,"  he  then  said.  "It 
means  that  people  may  have  their  way  for  a  while,  if  they  like, 

[190] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

but  it  will  get  them  into  such  troubles  they'll  wish  they  hadn't 
had  it." 

"I  know,  I  know!"  said  Diamond.  "Like  the  poor  cab- 
man next  door.    He  drinks  too  much." 

"Just  so,"  returned  Mr.  Raymond.  "But  when  people 
want  to  do  right,  things  about  them  will  try  to  help  them. 
Only  they  must  kill  the  snake,  you  know." 

"I  was  sure  the  snake  had  something  to  do  with  it,"  cried 
Diamond  triumphantly. 

A  good  deal  more  talk  followed,  and  Mr.  Raymond  gave 
Diamond  his  sixpence. 

"What  will  you  do  with  it?"  he  asked. 

"Take  it  home  to  my  mother,"  he  answered.  "She  has  a 
teapot — such  a  black  one ! — with  a  broken  spout,  and  she  keeps 
all  her  money  in  it.  It  ain't  much;  but  she  saves  it  up  to  buy 
shoes  for  me.  And  there's  baby  coming  on  famously,  and 
he'll  want  shoes  soon.  And  every  sixpence  is  something — 
ain't  it,  sir?" 

"To  be  sure,  my  man.  I  hope  you'll  always  make  as  good 
a  use  of  your  money." 

"I  hope  so,  sir,"  said  Diamond. 

"And  here's  a  book  for  you,  full  of  pictures  and  stories  and 
poems.  I  wrote  it  myself,  chiefly  for  the  children  of  the  hos- 
pital where  I  hope  Nanny  is  going.  I  don't  mean  I  printed  it, 
you  know.  I  made  it,"  added  Mr.  Raymond,  wishing  Dia- 
mond to  understand  that  he  was  the  author  of  the  book. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean.  I  make  songs  myself.  They're 
awfully  silly,  but  they  please  baby,  and  that's  all  they're  meant 
for." 

[191] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Couldn't  you  let  me  hear  one  of  them  now?"  said  Mr. 
Raymond. 

"No,  sir,  I  couldn't.  I  forget  them  as  soon  as  I've  done 
with  them.  Besides,  I  couldn't  make  a  line  without  baby  on 
my  knee.  We  make  them  together,  you  know.  They're  just 
as  much  baby's  as  mine.    It's  he  that  pulls  them  out  of  me." 

"I  suspect  the  child's  a  genius,"  said  the  poet  to  himself, 
"and  that's  what  makes  people  think  him  silly." 

Now  if  any  of  my  child  readers  want  to  know  what  a  genius 
is — shall  I  try  to  tell  them,  or  shall  I  not?  I  will  give  them 
one  very  short  answer:  it  means  one  who  understands  things 
without  any  other  body  telling  him  what  they  mean.  God 
makes  a  few  such  now  and  then  to  teach  the  rest  of  us. 

"Do  you  like  riddles?"  asked  Mr.  Raymond,  turning  over 
the  leaves  of  his  own  book. 

"I  don't  know  what  a  riddle  is,"  said  Diamond. 

"It's  something  that  means  something  else,  and  you've  got 
to  find  out  what  the  something  else  is." 

Mr.  Raymond  liked  the  old-fashioned  riddle  best,  and  had 
written  a  few — one  of  which  he  now  read. 

I  have  only  one  foot,  but  thousands  of  toes; 

My  one  foot  stands,  but  never  goes. 

I  have  many  arms,  and  they're  mighty  all; 

And  hundreds  of  fingers,  large  and  small. 

From  the  ends  of  my  fingers  my  beauty  grows. 

I  breathe  with  my  hair,  and  I  drink  with  my  toes. 

I  grow  bigger  and  bigger  about  the  waist, 

And  yet  I  am  always  very  tight  laced. 

None  e'er  saw  me  eat — I've  no  mouth  to  bite; 

Yet  I  eat  all  day  in  the  full  sunlight. 

In  the  summer  with  song  I  shake  and  quiver, 

But  in  winter  I  fast  and  groan  and  shiver. 

[  192] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Do  you  know  what  that  means,  Diamond?'*  he  asked, 
when  he  had  finished. 

"No,  indeed,  I  don't,"  answered  Diamond. 

"Then  you  can  read  it  for  yourself,  and  think  over  it,  and 
see  if  you  can  find  it  out,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  giving  him  the 
book.  "And  now  you  had  better  go  home  to  your  mother. 
When  you've  found  the  riddle,  you  can  come  again." 

If  Diamond  had  had  to  find  out  the  riddle  in  order  to  see 
Mr.  Raymond  again,  I  doubt  if  he  would  ever  have  seen  him. 

"Oh  then,"  I  think  I  hear  some  little  reader  say,  "he  could 
not  have  been  a  genius,  for  a  genius  finds  out  things  without 
being  told." 

I  answered,  "Genius  finds  out  truths,  not  tricks."  And  if 
you  do  not  understand  that,  I  am  afraid  you  must  be  content 
to  wait  till  you  grow  older  and  know  more. 


193] 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
THE  EARLY  BIRD 

WHEN  Diamond  got  home  he  found  his  father  at 
home  already,  sitting  by  the  fire  and  looking  rather 
miserable,  for  his  head  ached  and  he  felt  sick.  He 
had  been  doing  night  work  of  late,  and  it  had  not  agreed  with 
him,  so  he  had  given  it  up,  but  not  in  time,  for  he  had  taken 
some  kind  of  fever.  The  next  day  he  was  forced  to  keep  his 
bed,  and  his  wife  nursed  him,  and  Diamond  attended  to  the 
baby.  If  he  had  not  been  ill,  it  would  have  been  delightful  to 
have  him  at  home;  and  the  first  day  Diamond  sang  more  songs 
than  ever  to  the  baby,  and  his  father  listened  with  some  plea- 
sure. But  the  next  he  could  not  bear  even  Diamond's  sweet 
voice,  and  was  very  ill  indeed;  so  Diamond  took  the  baby  into 
his  own  room,  and  had  no  end  of  quiet  games  with  him  there. 
If  he  did  pull  all  his  bedding  on  the  floor,  it  did  not  matter,  for 
he  kept  baby  very  quiet,  and  made  the  bed  himself  again,  and 
slept  in  it  with  baby  all  the  next  night,  and  many  nights  after. 
But  long  before  his  father  got  well,  his  mother's  savings 
were  all  but  gone.  She  did  not  say  a  word  about  it  in  the 
hearing  of  her  husband,  lest  she  should  distress  him;  and  one 
night,  when  she  could  not  help  crying,  she  came  into  Diamond's 
room  that  his  father  might  not  hear  her.  She  thought  Dia- 
mond was  asleep,  but  he  was  not.  When  he  heard  her  sobbing, 
he  was  frightened,  and  said — 
"Is  father  worse,  mother?" 

[194] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No,  Diamond,"  she  answered,  as  well  as  she  could;  "he's 
a  good  bit  better." 

"Then  what  are  you  crying  for,  mother?" 

"Because  my  money  is  almost  all  gone,"  she  replied. 

"O  mammy,  you  make  me  think  of  a  little  poem  baby  and 
I  learned  out  of  North  Wind's  book  to-day.  Don't  you  re- 
member how  I  bothered  you  about  some  of  the  words?" 

"Yes,  child,"  said  his  mother  heedlessly,  thinking  only  of 
what  she  should  do  after  to-morrow. 

Diamond  began  and  repeated  the  poem,  for  he  had  a  won- 
derful memory. 

A  little  bird  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  nest; 

Her  yellow-beaks  slept  as  sound  as  tops; 
That  day  she  had  done  her  very  best, 

And  had  filled  every  one  of  their  little  crops. 
She  had  filled  her  own  just  over-full, 
And  hence  she  was  feeling  a  little  dull. 

'Oh  dear!'  she  sighed,  as  she  sat  with  her  head 

Sunk  in  her  chest,  and  no  neck  at  all, 
While  her  crop  stuck  out  like  a  feather  bed 

Turned  inside  out,  and  rather  small; 
'What  shall  I  do  if  things  don't  reform? 
I  don't  know  where  there's  a  single  worm. 

'  I've  had  twenty  to-day,  and  the  children  five  each, 
Besides  a  few  flies,  and  some  very  fat  spiders; 

No  one  will  say  I  don't  do  as  I  preach — 
I'm  one  of  the  best  of  bird-providers; 

But  where's  the  use?     We  want  a  storm — 

I  don't  know  where  there's  a  single  worm.' 

'There's  five  in  my  crop,'  said  a  wee,  wee  bird, 
Which  woke  at  the  voice  of  his  mother's  pain; 

'I  know  where  there's  five.'     And  with  the  word 
He  tucked  in  his  head,  and  went  off  again. 

[195] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

'The  folly  of  childhood,'  sighed  his  mother, 
'Has  always  been  my  especial  bother.' 

The  yellow-beaks  they  slept  on  and  on — 

And  never  had  heard  of  the  bogy  To-morrow; 

But  the  mother  sat  outside,  making  her  moan — 
She'll  soon  have  to  beg,  or  steal,  or  borrow; 

For  she  never  can  tell  the  night  before 

Where  she  shall  find  one  red  worm  more. 

The  fact,  as  I  say,  was,  she'd  had  too  many; 

She  couldn't  sleep,  and  she  called  it  virtue, 
Motherly  foresight,  affection,  any 

Name  you  may  call  it  that  will  not  hurt  you; 
So  it  was  late  ere  she  tucked  her  head  in, 
And  she  slept  so  late  it  was  almost  a  sin. 

But  the  little  fellow  who  knew  of  five, 

Nor  troubled  his  head  about  any  more, 
Woke  very  early,  felt  quite  alive, 

And  wanted  a  sixth  to  add  to  his  store; 
He  pushed  his  mother,  the  greedy  elf, 
Then  thought  he  had  better  try  for  himself. 

When  his  mother  awoke  and  had  rubbed  her  eyes, 
Feeling  less  like  a  bird,  and  more  like  a  mole, 

She  saw  him — fancy  with  what  surprise — 
Dragging  a  huge  worm  out  of  a  hole! 

'Twas  of  his  same  hero  the  proverb  took  form: 

'Tis  the  early  bird  that  catches  the  worm. 

"There,  mother!"  said  Diamond,  as  he  finished;  "ain't  it 
funny?" 

"I  wish  you  were  like  that  little  bird,  Diamond,  and  could 
catch  worms  for  yourself,"  said  his  mother,  as  she  rose  to  go 
and  look  after  her  husband. 

Diamond  lay  awake  for  a  few  minutes,  thinking  what  he 
could  do  to  catch  worms.  It  was  very  little  trouble  to  make  up 
his  mind,  however,  and  still  less  to  go  to  sleep  after  it. 

[196] 


H 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

ANOTHER  EARLY  BIRD 

E  got  up  in  the  morning  as  soon  as  he  heard  the  men 
moving  in  the  yard.  He  tucked  in  his  little  brother 
so  that  he  could  not  tumble  out  of  bed,  and  then  went 
out,  leaving  the  door  open,  so  that  if  he  should  cry  his  mother 
might  hear  him  at  once.  When  he  got  into  the  yard  he  found 
the  stable-door  just  opened. 

"I'm  the  early  bird,  I  think,"  he  said  to  himself.  "I  hope 
I  shall  catch  the  worm." 

He  would  not  ask  any  one  to  help  him,  fearing  his  project 
might  meet  with  disapproval  and  opposition.  With  great  diffi- 
culty, but  with  the  help  of  a  broken  chair  he  brought  down 
from  his  bedroom,  he  managed  to  put  the  harness  on  Diamond. 
If  the  old  horse  had  had  the  least  objection  to  the  proceeding, 
of  course  he  could  not  have  done  it ;  but  even  when  it  came  to 
the  bridle,  he  opened  his  mouth  for  the  bit,  just  as  if  he  had 
been  taking  the  apple  which  Diamond  sometimes  gave  him. 
He  fastened  the  cheek-strap  very  carefully,  just  in  the  usual 
hole,  for  fear  of  choking  his  friend,  or  else  letting  the  bit  get 
amongst  his  teeth.  It  was  a  job  to  get  the  saddle  on;  but 
with  the  chair  he  managed  it.  If  old  Diamond  had  had  an 
education  in  physics  to  equal  that  of  the  camel,  he  would  have 
knelt  down  to  let  him  put  it  on  his  back,  but  that  was  more 
than  could  be  expected  of  him,  and  then  Diamond  had  to  creep 
quite  under  him  to  get  hold  of  the  girth.    The  collar  was  almost 

[197] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

the  worst  part  of  the  business;  but  there  Diamond  could  help 
Diamond.  He  held  his  head  very  low  till  his  little  master  had 
got  it  over  and  turned  it  round,  and  then  he  lifted  his  head, 
and  shook  it  on  to  his  shoulders.  The  yoke  was  rather  diffi- 
cult; but  when  he  had  laid  the  traces  over  the  horse's  neck, 
the  weight  was  not  too  much  for  him.  He  got  him  right  at 
last,  and  led  him  out  of  the  stable. 

By  this  time  there  were  several  of  the  men  watching  him, 
but  they  would  not  interfere,  they  were  so  anxious  to  see  how 
he  would  get  over  the  various  difficulties.  They  followed  him 
as  far  as  the  stable-door,  and  there  stood  watching  him  again 
as  he  put  the  horse  between  the  shafts,  got  them  up  one  after 
the  other  into  the  loops,  fastened  the  traces,  the  belly-band,  the 
breeching,  and  the  reins. 

Then  he  got  his  whip.  The  moment  he  mounted  the  box, 
the  men  broke  into  a  hearty  cheer  of  delight  at  his  success. 
But  they  would  not  let  him  go  without  a  general  inspection  of 
the  harness ;  and  although  they  found  it  right,  for  not  a  buckle 
had  to  be  shifted,  they  never  allowed  him  to  do  it  for  himself 
again  all  the  time  his  father  was  ill. 

The  cheer  brought  his  mother  to  the  window,  and  there  she 
saw  her  little  boy  setting  out  alone  with  the  cab  in  the  gray  of 
the  morning.  She  tugged  at  the  window,  but  it  was  stiff;  and 
before  she  could  open  it,  Diamond,  who  was  in  a  great  hurry, 
was  out  of  the  mews,  and  almost  out  of  the  street.  She  called 
"Diamond!  Diamond!"  but  there  was  no  answer  except  from 
Jack. 

"Never  fear  for  him,  ma'am,"  said  Jack.  "It  'ud  be  only  a 
devil  as  would  hurt  him,  and  there  ain't  so  many  o'  them  as 

[  198] 


©  DMEK 


The  collar  was  almost  the  worst  part  of  the  business. 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

some  folk  'ud  have  you  believe.  A  boy  o'  Diamond's  size  as 
can  'arness  a  'oss  o'  t'other  Diamond's  size,  and  put  him  to, 
right  as  a  trivet — if  he  do  upset  the  keb — '11  fall  on  his  feet, 
ma'am." 

"But  he  won't  upset  the  cab,  will  he,  Jack?" 
"Not  he,  ma'am.    Leastways  he  won't  go  for  to  do  it." 
"I  know  as  much  as  that  myself.    What  do  you  mean?" 
"  I  mean  he's  as  little  likely  to  do  it  as  the  oldest  man  in  the 
stable.    How's  the  gov'nor  to-day,  ma'am?" 

"A  good  deal  better,  thank  you,"  she  answered,  closing  the 
window  in  some  fear  lest  her  husband  should  have  been  made 
anxious  by  the  news  of  Diamond's  expedition.  He  knew  pretty 
well,  however,  what  his  boy  was  capable  of,  and  although  not 
quite  easy  was  less  anxious  than  his  mother.  But  as  the  even- 
ing drew  on,  the  anxiety  of  both  of  them  increased,  and  every 
sound  of  wheels  made  his  father  raise  himself  in  his  bed,  and 
his  mother  peep  out  of  the  window. 

Diamond  had  resolved  to  go  straight  to  the  cabstand  where 
he  was  best  known,  and  never  to  crawl  for  fear  of  getting 
annoyed  by  idlers.  Before  he  got  across  Oxford  Street,  how- 
ever, he  was  hailed  by  a  man  who  wanted  to  catch  a  train,  and 
was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  think  about  the  driver.  Having 
carried  him  to  King's  Cross  in  good  time,  and  got  a  good  fare 
in  return,  he  set  off  again  in  great  spirits,  and  reached  the  stand 
in  safety.    He  was  the  first  there  after  all. 

As  the  men  arrived  they  all  greeted  him  kindly,  and  in- 
quired after  his  father. 

"Ain't  you  afraid  of  the  old  'oss  running  away  with  you?" 
asked  one. 

[199] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No,  he  wouldn't  run  away  with  me,"  answered  Diamond. 
"He  knows  I'm  getting  the  shillings  for  father.  Or  if  he  did 
he  would  only  run  home." 

"Well,  you're  a  plucky  one,  for  all  your  girl's  looks!"  said 
the  man;   "and  I  wish  ye  luck." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Diamond.  "I'll  do  what  I  can.  I 
came  to  the  old  place,  you  see,  because  I  knew  you  would  let 
me  have  my  turn  here." 

In  the  course  of  the  day  one  man  did  try  to  cut  him  out,  but 
he  was  a  stranger;  and  the  shout  the  rest  of  them  raised  let 
him  see  it  would  not  do,  and  made  him  so  far  ashamed  besides, 
that  he  went  away  crawling. 

Once,  in  a  block,  a  policeman  came  up  to  him,  and  asked 
him  for  his  number.  Diamond  showed  him  his  father's  badge, 
saying  with  a  smile: 

"Father's  ill  at  home,  and  so  I  came  out  with  the  cab. 
There's  no  fear  of  me.  I  can  drive.  Besides,  the  old  horse 
could  go  alone." 

"Just  as  well,  I  dare  say.  You're  a  pair  of  'em.  But  you 
are  a  rum  'un  for  a  cabby — ain't  you  now?"  said  the  policeman. 
"I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  let  you  go." 

"I  ain't  done  nothing,"  said  Diamond.  "It's  not  my  fault 
I'm  no  bigger.    I'm  big  enough  for  my  age." 

"That's  where  it  is,"  said  the  man.    "You  ain't  fit." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Diamond,  with  his  usual 
smile,  and  turning  his  head  like  a  little  bird. 

"Why,  how  are  you  to  get  out  of  this  ruck  now,  when  it 
begins  to  move?" 

[200] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Just  you  get  up  on  the  box,"  said  Diamond,  "and  I'll 
show  you.    There,  that  van's  a-moving  now.    Jump  up." 

The  policeman  did  as  Diamond  told  him,  and  was  soon 
satisfied  that  the  little  fellow  could  drive. 

"Well,"  he  said,  as  he  got  down  again,  "I  don't  know  as  I 
should  be  right  to  interfere.    Good  luck  to  you,  my  little  man !" 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Diamond,  and  drove  away. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  gentleman  hailed  him. 

"Are  you  the  driver  of  this  cab?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Diamond,  showing  his  badge,  of  which  he 
was  proud. 

"You're  the  youngest  cabman  I  ever  saw.  How  am  I  to 
know  you  won't  break  all  my  bones?" 

"I  would  rather  break  all  my  own,"  said  Diamond.  "But 
if  you're  afraid,  never  mind  me;  I  shall  soon  get  another  fare." 

"I'll  risk  it,"  said  the  gentleman;  and,  opening  the  door 
himself,  he  jumped  in. 

He  was  going  a  good  distance,  and  soon  found  that  Dia- 
mond got  him  over  the  ground  well.  Now  when  Diamond  had 
only  to  go  straight  ahead,  and  had  not  to  mind  so  much  what 
he  was  about,  his  thoughts  always  turned  to  the  riddle  Mr. 
Raymond  had  set  him;  and  this  gentleman  looked  so  clever 
that  he  fancied  he  must  be  able  to  read  it  for  him.  He  had 
given  up  all  hope  of  finding  it  out  for  himself,  and  he  could  not 
plague  his  father  about  it  when  he  was  ill.  He  had  thought  of 
the  answer  himself,  but  fancied  it  could  not  be  the  right  one, 
for  to  see  how  it  all  fitted  required  some  knowledge  of  physi- 
ology. So,  when  he  reached  the  end  of  his  journey,  he  got 
down  very  quickly,  and  with  his  head  just  looking  in  at  the 

[201  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

window,  said,  as  the  gentleman  gathered  his  gloves  and  news- 
papers : 

"Please,  sir,  can  you  tell  me  the  meaning  of  a  riddle?" 

"You  must  tell  me  the  riddle  first,"  answered  the  gentle- 
man, amused. 

Diamond  repeated  the  riddle. 

"Oh!  that's  easy  enough,"  he  returned.     "It's  a  tree." 

"Well,  it  ain't  got  no  mouth,  sure  enough;  but  how  then 
does  it  eat  all  day  long?" 

"It  sucks  in  its  food  through  the  tiniest  holes  in  its  leaves," 
he  answered.  "  Its  breath  is  its  food.  And  it  can't  do  it  except 
in  the  daylight." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  thank  you,"  returned  Diamond.  "I'm 
sorry  I  couldn't  find  it  out  myself;  Mr.  Raymond  would  have 
been  better  pleased  with  me." 

"But  you  needn't  tell  him  any  one  told  you." 

Diamond  gave  him  a  stare  which  came  from  the  very  back 
of  the  north  wind,  where  that  kind  of  thing  is  unknown. 

"That  would  be  cheating,"  he  said  at  last. 

"Ain't  you  a  cabby,  then?" 

"Cabbies  don't  cheat." 

"Don't  they?    I  am  of  a  different  opinion." 

"I'm  sure  my  father  don't." 

"What's  your  fare,  young  innocent?" 

"Well,  I  think  the  distance  is  a  good  deal  over  three  miles — 
that's  two  shillings.  Only  father  says  sixpence  a  mile  is  too 
little,  though  we  can't  ask  for  more." 

"You're  a  deep  one.  But  I  think  you're  wrong.  It's  over 
four  miles — not  much,  but  it  is." 

[  202] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Then  that's  half-a-crown,"  said  Diamond. 

"Well,  here's  three  shillings.    Will  that  do?" 

"Thank  you  kindly,  sir.  I'll  tell  my  father  how  good  you 
were  to  me — first  to  tell  me  my  riddle,  then  to  put  me  right 
about  the  distance,  and  then  to  give  me  sixpence  over.  It'll 
help  father  to  get  well  again,  it  will." 

"I  hope  it  may,  my  man.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you're  as 
good  as  you  look,  after  all." 

As  Diamond  returned,  he  drew  up  at  a  stand  he  had  never 
been  on  before :  it  was  time  to  give  Diamond  his  bag  of  chopped 
beans  and  oats.  The  men  got  about  him,  and  began  to  chaff 
him.  He  took  it  all  good-humouredly,  until  one  of  them,  who 
was  an  ill-conditioned  fellow,  began  to  tease  old  Diamond  by 
poking  him  roughly  in  the  ribs,  and  making  general  game  of 
him.  That  he  could  not  bear,  and  the  tears  came  in  his  eyes. 
He  undid  the  nose-bag,  put  it  in  the  boot,  and  was  just  going 
to  mount  and  drive  away,  when  the  fellow  interfered,  and 
would  not  let  him  get  up.  Diamond  endeavored  to  persuade 
him,  and  was  very  civil,  but  he  would  have  his  fun  out  of  him, 
as  he  said.  In  a  few  minutes  a  group  of  idle  boys  had  as- 
sembled, and  Diamond  found  himself  in  a  very  uncomfortable 
position.  Another  cab  drew  up  at  the  stand,  and  the  driver 
got  off  and  approached  the  assemblage. 

"What's  up  here?"  he  asked,  and  Diamond  knew  the  voice. 
It  was  that  of  the  drunken  cabman. 

"Do  you  see  this  young  oyster?  He  pretends  to  drive  a 
cab,"  said  his  enemy. 

"Yes,  I  do  see  him.  And  I  sees  you  too.  You'd  better 
leave  him  alone.     He  ain't  no  oyster.     He's  a  angel  come 

[203] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

down  on  his  own  business.     You  be  off,  or  I'll  be  nearer  you 
than  quite  agreeable." 

The  drunken  cabman  was  a  tall,  stout  man,  who  did  not 
look  one  to  take  liberties  with. 

"Oh!  if  he's  a  friend  of  yours,"  said  the  other,  drawing 
back. 

Diamond  got  out  the  nose-bag  again.  Old  Diamond  should 
have  his  feed  out  now. 

"Yes,  he  is  a  friend  o'  mine.  One  o'  the  best  I  ever  had. 
It's  a  pity  he  ain't  a  friend  o'  yourn.  You'd  be  the  better  for 
it,  but  it  ain't  no  fault  of  hisn." 

When  Diamond  went  home  at  night,  he  carried  with  him 
one  pound  one  shilling  and  sixpence,  besides  a  few  coppers 
extra,  which  had  followed  some  of  the  fares. 

His  mother  had  got  very  anxious  indeed — so  much  so  that 
she  was  almost  afraid,  when  she  did  hear  the  sound  of  his  cab, 
to  go  and  look,  lest  she  should  be  again  disappointed,  and 
should  break  down  before  her  husband.  But  there  was  the 
old  horse,  and  there  was  the  cab  all  right,  and  there  was  Dia- 
mond on  the  box,  his  pale  face  looking  triumphant  as  a  full 
moon  in  the  twilight. 

When  he  drew  up  at  the  stable-door,  Jack  came  out,  and 
after  a  good  many  friendly  questions  and  congratulations,  said: 

"You  go  in  to  your  mother,  Diamond.  I'll  put  up  the  old 
'oss.  I'll  take  care  on  him.  He  do  deserve  some  small  atten- 
tion, he  do." 

"Thank  you,  Jack,"  said  Diamond,  and  bounded  into  the 
house,  and  into  the  arms  of  his  mother,  who  was  waiting  for 
him  at  the  top  of  the  stair. 

[  204  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

The  poor,  anxious  woman  led  him  into  his  own  room,  sat 
down  on  his  bed,  took  him  on  her  lap  as  if  he  had  been  a  baby, 
and  cried. 

"How's  father?"  asked  Diamond,  almost  afraid  to  ask. 

"Better,  my  child,"  she  answered,  "but  uneasy  about  you, 
my  dear." 

"Didn't  you  tell  him  I  was  the  early  bird  gone  out  to  catch 
the  worm?" 

"  That  was  what  put  it  in  your  head,  was  it,  you  monkey?" 
said  his  mother,  beginning  to  get  better. 

"That  or  something  else,"  answered  Diamond,  so  very 
quietly  that  his  mother  held  his  head  back  and  stared  in  his 
face. 

"Well!  of  all  the  children!"  she  said,  and  said  no  more. 

"And  here's  my  worm,"  resumed  Diamond. 

But  to  see  her  face  as  he  poured  the  shillings  and  sixpences 
and  pence  into  her  lap!  She  burst  out  crying  a  second  time, 
and  ran  with  the  money  to  her  husband. 

And  how  pleased  he  was !  It  did  him  no  end  of  good.  But 
while  he  was  counting  the  coins,  Diamond  turned  to  baby,  who 
was  lying  awake  in  his  cradle,  sucking  his  precious  thumb,  and 
took  him  up,  saying: 

"Baby,  baby!  I  haven't  seen  you  for  a  whole  year." 

And  then  he  began  to  sing  to  him  as  usual.  And  what  he 
sang  was  this,  for  he  was  too  happy  either  to  make  a  song  of 
his  own  or  to  sing  sense.  It  was  one  out  of  Mr.  Raymond's 
book. 


[  205  J 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 


THE  TRUE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CAT  AND  THE  FIDDLE 

Hey,  diddle,  diddle! 

The  cat  and  the  fiddle! 
He  played  such  a  merry  tune, 

That  the  cow  went  mad 

With  the  pleasure  she  had, 
And  jumped  right  over  the  moon. 

But  then,  don't  you  see? 

Before  that  could  be, 
The  moon  had  come  down  and  listened. 

The  little  dog  hearkened, 

So  loud  that  he  barkened, 

"There's  nothing  like  it,  there  isn't." 

Hey,  diddle,  diddle! 

Went  the  cat  and  the  fiddle, 
Hey  diddle,  diddle,  dee,  dee! 

The  dog  laughed  at  the  sport 

Till  his  cough  cut  him  short, 
It  was  hey  diddle,  diddle,  oh  me! 

And  back  came  the  cow 

With  a  merry,  merry  low, 
For  she'd  humbled  the  man  in  the  moon. 

The  dish  got  excited, 

The  spoon  was  delighted, 
And  the  dish  waltzed  away  with  the  spoon. 

But  the  man  in  the  moon, 

Coming  back  too  soon 
From  the  famous  town  of  Norwich, 

Caught  up  the  dish, 

Said,  "It's  just  what  I  wish 
To  hold  my  cold  plum-porridge!" 

Gave  the  cow  a  rat-tat, 

Flung  water  on  the  cat, 
And  sent  him  away  like  a  rocket. 

Said,  "O  Moon,  there  you  are!" 

Got  into  her  car, 
And  went  off  with  the  spoon  in  his  pocket. 

[206] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Hey  ho !  diddle,  diddle ! 

The  wet  cat  and  wet  fiddle, 
They  made  such  a  caterwauling, 

That  the  cow  in  a  fright 

Stood  bolt  upright 
Bellowing  now,  and  bawling; 

And  the  dog  on  his  tail, 

Stretched  his  neck  with  a  wail. 
But  "Ho!  ho!"  said  the  man  in  the  moon — 

"No  more  in  the  South 

Shall  I  burn  my  mouth, 
For  I've  found  a  dish  and  a  spoon." 


[  207] 


CHAPTER  XXV 

DIAMOND'S  DREAM 

"FTT^IHERE,  baby!"  said  Diamond;  "I'm  so  happy  that  I 
can  only  sing  nonsense.    Oh,  father,  think  if  you  had 

"*■  been  a  poor  man,  and  hadn't  had  a  cab  and  old  Dia- 
mond!   What  should  I  have  done?" 

"I  don't  know  indeed  what  you  could  have  done,"  said  his 
father  from  the  bed. 

"We  should  have  all  starved,  my  precious  Diamond,"  said 
his  mother,  whose  pride  in  her  boy  was  even  greater  than  her 
joy  in  the  shillings.  Both  of  them  together  made  her  heart 
ache,  for  pleasure  can  do  that  as  well  as  pain. 

"Oh  no!  we  shouldn't,"  said  Diamond.  "I  could  have 
taken  Nanny's  crossing  'till  she  came  back;  and  then  the 
money,  instead  of  going  for  Old  Sal's  gin,  would  have  gone 
for  father's  beef -tea.  I  wonder  what  Nanny  will  do  when  she 
gets  well  again.  Somebody  else  will  be  sure  to  have  taken  the 
crossing  by  that  time.  I  wonder  if  she  will  fight  for  it,  and 
whether  I  shall  have  to  help  her.  I  won't  bother  my  head 
about  that.  Time  enough  yet!  Hey  diddle!  hey  diddle!  hey 
diddle  diddle!  I  wonder  whether  Mr.  Raymond  would  take 
me  to  see  Nanny.  Hey  diddle !  hey  diddle !  hey  diddle  diddle ! 
The  baby  and  fiddle!  O,  mother,  I'm  such  a  silly!  But  I 
can't  help  it.  I  wish  I  could  think  of  something  else,  but 
there's  nothing  will  come  into  my  head  but  hey  diddle  diddle! 
the  cat  and  the  fiddle!    I  wonder  what  the  angels  do — when 

[  208] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

they're  extra  happy,  you  know — when  they've  been  driving 
eabs  all  day  and  taking  home  the  money  to  their  mothers.  Do 
you  think  they  ever  sing  nonsense,  mother?" 

"I  dare  say  they've  got  their  own  sort  of  it,"  answered  his 
mother,  "else  they  wouldn't  be  like  other  people." 

She  was  thinking  more  of  her  twenty-one  shillings  and  six 
pence,  and  of  the  nice  dinner  she  would  get  for  her  sick  hus- 
band next  day,  than  of  the  angels  and  their  nonsense,  when  she 
said  it.    But  Diamond  found  her  answer  all  right. 

"Yes,  to  be  sure,"  he  replied.  "They  wouldn't  be  like 
other  people  if  they  hadn't  their  nonsense  sometimes.  But  it 
must  be  very  pretty  nonsense,  and  not  like  that  silly  hey  diddle 
diddle!  the  cat  and  the  fiddle!  I  wish  I  could  get  it  out  of 
my  head.  I  wonder  what  the  angels'  nonsense  is  like.  Non- 
sense is  a  very  good  thing,  ain't  it,  mother? — a  little  of  it  now 
and  then;  more  of  it  for  baby,  and  not  so  much  for  grown 
people  like  cabmen  and  their  mothers?  It's  like  the  pepper 
and  salt  that  goes  in  the  soup — that's  it — isn't  it,  mother? 
There's  baby  fast  asleep !  Oh,  what  a  nonsense  baby  it  is— to 
sleep  so  much!    Shall  I  put  him  down,  mother?" 

Diamond  chattered  away.  What  rose  in  his  happy  little 
heart  ran  out  of  his  mouth,  and  did  his  father  and  mother  good. 
When  he  went  to  bed,  which  he  did  early,  being  more  tired,  as 
you  may  suppose,  than  usual,  he  was  still  thinking  what  the 
nonsense  could  be  like  which  the  angels  sang  when  they  were 
too  happy  to  sing  sense.  But  before  coming  to  any  conclusion 
he  fell  fast  asleep.  And  no  wonder,  for  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged a  difficult  question. 

That  night  he  had  a  very  curious  dream  which  I  think  my 

[209] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

readers  would  like  to  have  told  them.  They  would,  at  least, 
if  they  are  as  fond  of  nice  dreams  as  I  am,  and  don't  have 
enough  of  them  of  their  own. 

He  dreamed  that  he  was  running  about  in  the  twilight  in 
the  old  garden.  He  thought  he  was  waiting  for  North  Wind, 
but  she  did  not  come.  So  he  would  run  down  to  the  back  gate, 
and  see  if  she  were  there.  He  ran  and  ran.  It  was  a  good  long 
garden  out  of  his  dream,  but  in  his  dream  it  had  grown  so  long 
and  spread  out  so  wide  that  the  gate  he  wanted  was  nowhere. 
He  ran  and  ran,  but  instead  of  coming  to  the  gate  found  him- 
self in  a  beautiful  country,  not  like  any  country  he  had  ever 
been  in  before.  There  were  no  trees  of  any  size;  nothing 
bigger  in  fact  than  hawthorns,  which  were  full  of  may -blossom. 
The  place  in  which  they  grew  was  wild  and  diy ,  mostly  covered 
with  grass,  but  having  patches  of  heath.  It  extended  on  every 
side  as  far  as  he  could  see.  But  although  it  was  so  wild,  yet 
wherever  in  an  ordinary  heath  you  might  have  expected  furze 
bushes,  or  holly,  or  broom,  there  grew  roses — wild  and  rare — 
all  kinds.  On  every  side,  far  and  near,  roses  were  glowing. 
There  too  was  the  gum-cistus,  whose  flowers  fall  every  night 
and  come  again  the  next  morning,  lilacs  and  syringas  and 
laburnums,  and  many  shrubs  besides,  of  which  he  did  not 
know  the  names;  but  the  roses  were  everywhere.  He  wan- 
dered on  and  on,  wondering  when  it  would  come  to  an 
end.  It  was  of  no  use  going  back,  for  there  was  no  house 
to  be  seen  anywhere.  But  he  was  not  frightened,  for  you 
know  Diamond  was  used  to  things  that  were  rather  out  of 
the  way.  He  threw  himself  down  under  a  rose-bush,  and  fell 
asleep. 

[210] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

He  woke,  not  out  of  his  dream,  but  into  it,  thinking  he 
heard  a  child's  voice,  calling  "Diamond,  Diamond!"  He 
jumped  up,  but  all  was  still  about  him.  The  rose-bushes  were 
pouring  out  their  odors  in  clouds.  He  could  see  the  scent 
like  mists  of  the  same  color  as  the  rose,  issuing  like  a  slow 
fountain  and  spreading  in  the  air  till  it  joined  the  thin  rosy 
vapor  which  hung  over  all  the  wilderness.  But  again  came 
the  voice  calling  him,  and  it  seemed  to  come  from  over  his 
head.  He  looked  up,  but  saw  only  the  deep  blue  sky  full  of 
stars — more  brilliant,  however,  than  he  had  seen  them  before; 
and  both  sky  and  stars  looked  nearer  to  the  earth. 

While  he  gazed  up,  again  he  heard  the  cry.  At  the  same 
moment  he  saw  one  of  the  biggest  stars  over  his  head  give  a 
kind  of  twinkle  and  jump,  as  if  it  went  out  and  came  in  again. 
He  threw  himself  on  his  back,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it.  Nor 
had  he  gazed  long  before  it  went  out,  leaving  something  like 
a  scar  in  the  blue.  But  as  he  went  on  gazing  he  saw  a  face 
where  the  star  had  been — a  merry  face,  with  bright  eyes.  The 
eyes  appeared  not  only  to  see  Diamond,  but  to  know  that 
Diamond  had  caught  sight  of  them,  for  the  face  withdrew 
the  same  moment.  Again  came  the  voice,  calling  "Diamond, 
Diamond;"  and  in  jumped  the  star  to  its  place. 

Diamond  called  as  loud  as  he  could,  right  up  into  the  sky : 

"Here's  Diamond,  down  below  you.  What  do  you  want 
him  to  do?" 

The  next  instant  many  of  the  stars  round  about  that  one 
went  out,  and  many  voices  shouted  from  the  sky, — 

"Come  up;  come  up.  We're  so  jolly!  Diamond!  Dia- 
mond!" 

[211] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

This  was  followed  by  a  peal  of  the  merriest,  kindliest 
laughter,  and  all  the  stars  jumped  into  their  places  again. 

"How  am  I  to  come  up?"  shouted  Diamond. 

"Go  round  the  rose-bush.  It's  got  its  foot  in  it,"  said  the 
first  voice. 

Diamond  got  up  at  once,  and  walked  to  the  other  side  of 
the  rose-bush. 

There  he  found  what  seemed  the  very  opposite  of  what  he 
wanted — a  stair  down  into  the  earth.  It  was  of  turf  and  moss. 
It  did  not  seem  to  promise  well  for  getting  into  the  sky,  but 
Diamond  had  learned  to  look  through  the  look  of  things.  The 
voice  must  have  meant  that  he  was  to  go  down  this  stair;  and 
down  this  stair  Diamond  went,  without  waiting  to  think  more 
about  it. 

It  was  such  a  nice  stair,  so  cool  and  soft — all  the  sides  as 
well  as  the  steps  grown  with  moss  and  grass  and  ferns !  Down 
and  down  Diamond  went — a  long  way,  until  at  last  he  heard 
the  gurgling  and  splashing  of  a  little  stream;  nor  had  he  gone 
much  farther  before  he  met  it — yes,  met  it  coming  up  the  stairs 
to  meet  him,  running  up  just  as  naturally  as  if  it  had  been  doing 
the  other  thing.  Neither  was  Diamond  in  the  least  surprised 
to  see  it  pitching  itself  from  one  step  to  another  as  it  climbed 
towards  him;  he  never  thought  it  was  odd — and  no  more  it 
was,  there.  It  would  have  been  odd  here.  It  made  a  merry 
tune  as  it  came,  and  its  voice  was  like  the  laughter  he  had 
heard  from  the  sky.  This  appeared  promising;  and  he  went 
on,  down  and  down  the  stair,  and  up  and  up  the  stream,  till  at 
last  he  came  where  it  hurried  out  from  under  a  stone,  and  the 
stair  stopped  altogether.    And  as  the  stream  bubbled  up,  the 

[212] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

stone  shook  and  swayed  with  its  force;  and  Diamond  thought 
he  would  try  to  lift  it.  Lightly  it  rose  to  his  hand,  forced  up 
by  the  stream  from  below;  and,  by  what  would  have  seemed 
an  unaccountable  perversion  of  things  had  he  been  awake3 
threatened  to  come  tumbling  upon  his  head.  But  he  avoided 
it,  and  when  it  fell,  got  upon  it.  He  now  saw  that  the  opening 
through  which  the  water  came  pouring  in  was  over  his  head, 
and  with  the  help  of  the  stone  he  scrambled  out  by  it,  and 
found  himself  on  the  side  of  a  grassy  hill  which  rounded  away 
from  him  in  every  direction,  and  down  which  came  the  brook 
which  vanished  in  the  hole.  But  scarcely  had  he  noticed  so 
much  as  this  before  a  merry  shouting  and  laughter  burst  upon 
him,  and  a  number  of  naked  little  boys  came  running,  every 
one  eager  to  get  to  him  first.  At  the  shoulders  of  each  fluttered 
two  little  wings,  which  were  of  no  use  for  flying,  as  they  were 
mere  buds;  only  being  made  for  it  they  could  not  help  flutter- 
ing as  if  they  were  flying.  Just  as  the  foremost  of  the  troop 
reached  him,  one  or  two  of  them  fell,  and  the  rest  with  shouts 
of  laughter  came  tumbling  over  them  till  they  heaped  up  a 
mound  of  struggling  merriment.  One  after  another  they  extri- 
cated themselves,  and  each  as  he  got  free  threw  his  arms  round 
Diamond  and  kissed  him.  Diamond's  heart  was  ready  to  melt 
within  him  from  clear  delight.  When  they  had  all  embraced 
him, — 

"Now  let  us  have  some  fun,"  cried  one,  and  with  a  shout 
they  all  scampered  hither  and  thither,  and  played  the  wildest 
gambols  on  the  grassy  slopes.  They  kept  constantly  coming 
back  to  Diamond,  however,  as  the  centre  of  their  enjoyment, 
rejoicing  over  him  as  if  they  had  found  a  lost  playmate. 

[213] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

There  was  a  wind  on  the  hillside  which  blew  like  the  very 
embodiment  of  living  gladness.  It  blew  into  Diamond's  heart, 
and  made  him  so  happy  that  he  was  forced  to  sit  down  and  cry. 

"Now  let's  go  and  dig  for  stars,"  said  one  who  seemed  to 
be  the  captain  of  the  troop. 

They  all  scurried  away,  but  soon  returned,  one  after  an- 
other, each  with  a  pickaxe  on  his  shoulder  and  a  spade  in  his 
hand.  As  soon  as  they  were  gathered,  the  captain  led  them  in 
a  straight  line  to  another  part  of  the  hill.  Diamond  rose  and 
followed. 

"Here  is  where  we  begin  our  lesson  for  to-night,"  he  said. 
"Scatter  and  dig." 

There  was  no  more  fun.  Each  went  by  himself,  walking 
slowly  with  bent  shoulders  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground. 
Every  now  and  then  one  would  stop,  kneel  down,  and  look 
intently,  feeling  with  his  hands  and  parting  the  grass.  One 
would  get  up  and  walk  on  again,  another  spring  to  his  feet, 
catch  eagerly  at  his  pickaxe  and  strike  it  into  the  ground  once 
and  again,  then  throw  it  aside,  snatch  up  his  spade,  and  com- 
mence digging  at  the  loosened  earth.  Now  one  would  sorrow- 
fully shovel  the  earth  into  the  hole  again,  trample  it  down  with 
his  little  bare  white  feet,  and  walk  on.  But  another  would  give 
a  joyful  shout,  and  after  much  tugging  and  loosening  would 
draw  from  the  hole  a  lump  as  big  as  his  head,  or  no  bigger  than 
his  fist;  when  the  under  side  of  it  would  pour  such  a  blaze  of 
golden  or  bluish  light  into  Diamond's  eyes  that  he  was  quite 
dazzled.  Gold  and  blue  were  the  commoner  colors:  the 
jubilation  was  greater  over  red  or  green  or  purple.  And  every 
time  a  star  was  dug  up  all  the  little  angels  dropped  their  tools 

[214] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  crowded  about  it,  shouting  and  dancing  and  fluttering 
their  wing-buds. 

When  they  had  examined  it  well,  they  would  kneel  down 
one  after  the  other  and  peep  through  the  hole;  but  they  al- 
ways stood  back  to  give  Diamond  the  first  look.  All  that  Dia- 
mond could  report,  however,  was,  that  through  the  star-holes 
he  saw  a  great  many  things  and  places  and  people  he  knew 
quite  well,  only  somehow  they  were  different — there  was  some- 
thing marvellous  about  them — he  could  not  tell  what.  Every 
time  he  rose  from  looking  through  a  star-hole,  he  felt  as  if  his 
heart  would  break  for  joy ;  and  he  said  that  if  he  had  not  cried, 
he  did  not  know  what  would  have  become  of  him. 

As  soon  as  all  had  looked,  the  star  was  carefully  fitted  in 
again,  a  little  mould  was  strewn  over  it,  and  the  rest  of  the 
heap  left  as  a  sign  that  that  star  had  been  discovered. 

At  length  one  dug  up  a  small  star  of  a  most  lovely  colour — 
a  colour  Diamond  had  never  seen  before.  The  moment  the 
angel  saw  what  it  was,  instead  of  showing  it  about,  he  handed 
it  to  one  of  his  neighbours,  and  seated  himself  on  the  edge  of 
the  hole,  saying: 

"This  will  do  for  me.    Good-bye.    I'm  off." 

They  crowded  about  him,  hugging  and  kissing  him;  then 
stood  back  with  a  solemn  stillness,  their  wings  lying  close  to 
their  shoulders.  The  little  fellow  looked  round  on  them  once 
with  a  smile,  and  then  shot  himself  headlong  through  the  star- 
hole.  Diamond,  as  privileged,  threw  himself  on  the  ground  to 
peep  after  him,  but  he  saw  nothing. 

"It's  no  use,"  said  the  captain.  "I  never  saw  anything 
more  of  one  that  went  that  way." 

[215] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"His  wings  can't  be  much  use,"  said  Diamond,  concerned 
and  fearful,  yet  comforted  by  the  calm  looks  of  the  rest. 

"That's  true,"  said  the  captain.  "He's  lost  them  by  this 
time.  They  all  do  that  go  that  way.  You  haven't  got  any, 
you  see." 

"No,"  said  Diamond.    "I  never  did  have  any." 

"Oh!  didn't  you?"  said  the  captain. 

"Some  people  say,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "that  they 
come  again.  I  don't  know.  I've  never  found  the  color  I  care 
about  myself.    I  suppose  I  shall  some  day." 

Then  they  looked  again  at  the  star,  put  it  carefully  into  its 
hole,  danced  round  it  and  over  it — but  solemnly,  and  called  it 
by  the  name  of  the  finder. 

"Will  you  know  it  again?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Oh  yes.  We  never  forget  a  star  that's  been  made  a 
door  of." 

Then  they  went  on  with  their  searching  and  digging. 

Diamond  having  neither  pickaxe  nor  spade,  had  the  more 
time  to  think. 

"I  don't  see  any  little  girls,"  he  said  at  last. 

The  captain  stopped  his  shovelling,  leaned  on  his  spade, 
rubbed  his  forehead  thoughtfully  with  his  left  hand — the  little 
angels  were  all  left-handed — repeated  the  words  "little  girls," 
and  then,  as  if  a  thought  had  struck  him,  resumed  his  work, 
saying— 

"I  think  I  know  what  you  mean.  I've  never  seen  any  of 
them,  of  course;  but  I  suppose  that's  the  sort  you  mean.  I'm 
told — but  mind  I  don't  say  it  is  so,  for  I  don't  know — that 
when  we  fall  asleep,  a  troop  of  angels  very  like  ourselves,  only 

[216] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

quite  different,  goes  round  to  all  the  stars  we  have  discovered, 
and  discovers  them  after  us.  I  suppose  with  our  shovelling 
and  handling  we  spoil  them  a  bit;  and  I  dare  say  the  clouds 
that  come  up  from  below  make  them  smoky  and  dull  some- 
times. They  say — mind,  I  say  they  say — these  other  angels 
take  them  out  one  by  one,  and  pass  each  round  as  we  do,  and 
breathe  over  it,  and  rub  it  with  their  white  hands,  which  are 
softer  than  ours,  because  they  don't  do  any  pick-and-spade 
work,  and  smile  at  it,  and  put  it  in  again;  and  that  is  what 
keeps  them  from  growing  dark." 

"How  jolly!"  thought  Diamond.  "I  should  like  to  see 
them  at  their  work  too. — When  do  you  go  to  sleep?"  he  asked 
the  captain. 

"When  we  grow  sleepy,"  answered  the  captain.  "They  do 
say — but  mind  I  say  they  say — that  it  is  when  those  others — 
what  do  you  call  them?  I  don't  know  if  that  is  their  name;  I 
am  only  guessing  that  may  be  the  sort  you  mean — when  they 
are  on  their  rounds  and  come  near  any  troop  of  us  we  fall 
asleep.  They  live  on  the  west  side  of  the  hill.  None  of  us 
have  ever  been  to  the  top  of  it  yet." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  he  dropped  his  spade.  He  tumbled  down 
beside  it,  and  lay  fast  asleep.  One  after  the  other  each  of  the 
troop  dropped  his  pickaxe  or  shovel  from  his  listless  hands, 
and  lay  fast  asleep  by  his  work. 

"Ah!"  thought  Diamond  to  himself,  with  delight,  "now 
the  girl-angels  are  coming,  and  I,  not  being  an  angel,  shall  not 
fall  asleep  like  the  rest,  and  I  shall  see  the  girl-angels." 

But  the  same  moment  he  felt  himself  growing  sleepy.  He 
struggled  hard  with  the  invading  power.  He  put  up  his  fingers 

[  217  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

to  his  eyelids  and  pulled  them  open.  But  it  was  of  no  use. 
He  thought  he  saw  a  glimmer  of  pale  rosy  light  far  up  the 
green  hill,  and  ceased  to  know. 

When  he  awoke,  all  the  angels  were  starting  up  wide  awake 
too.  He  expected  to  see  them  lift  their  tools,  but  no,  the  time 
for  play  had  come.  They  looked  happier  than  ever,  and  each 
began  to  sing  where  he  stood.  He  had  not  heard  them  sing 
before. 

"Now,"  he  thought,  "I  shall  know  what  kind  of  nonsense 
the  angels  sing  when  they  are  merry.  They  don't  drive  cabs, 
I  see,  but  they  dig  for  stars,  and  they  work  hard  enough  to  be 
merry  after  it." 

And  he  did  hear  some  of  the  angels'  nonsense;  for  if  it  was 
all  sense  to  them,  it  had  only  just  as  much  sense  to  Diamond 
as  made  good  nonsense  of  it.  He  tried  hard  to  set  it  down  in 
his  mind,  listening  as  closely  as  he  could,  now  to  one,  now  to 
another,  and  now  to  all  together.  But  while  they  were  yet 
singing  he  began,  to  his  dismay,  to  find  that  he  was  coming 
awake — faster  and  faster.  And  as  he  came  awake,  he  found 
that,  for  all  the  goodness  of  his  memory,  verse  after  verse  of 
the  angels'  nonsense  vanished  from  it.  He  always  thought  he 
could  keep  the  last,  but  as  the  next  began  he  lost  the  one  be- 
fore it,  and  at  length  awoke,  struggling  to  keep  hold  of  the  last 
verse  of  all.  He  felt  as  if  the  effort  to  keep  from  forgetting 
that  one  verse  of  the  vanishing  song  nearly  killed  him.  And 
yet  by  the  time  he  was  wide  awake  he  could  not  be  sure  of 
that  even.    It  was  something  like  this: 


[218] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

White  hands  of  whiteness 

Wash  the  stars'  faces, 
Till  glitter,  glitter,  glit,  goes  their  brightness 

Down  to  poor  places. 

This,  however,  was  so  near  sense  that  he  thought  it  could  not 
be  really  what  they  did  sing. 


[219] 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
DIAMOND  TAKES  A  FARE  THE  WRONG  WAY  RIGHT 

THE  next  morning  Diamond  was  up  almost  as  early  as 
before.  He  had  nothing  to  fear  from  his  mother  now, 
and  made  no  secret  of  what  he  was  about.  By  the  time 
he  reached  the  stable,  several  of  the  men  were  there.  They 
asked  him  a  good  many  questions  as  to  his  luck  the  day  before, 
and  he  told  them  all  they  wanted  to  know.  But  when  he  pro- 
ceeded to  harness  the  old  horse,  they  pushed  him  aside  with 
rough  kindness,  called  him  a  baby,  and  began  to  do  it  all  for 
him.  So  Diamond  ran  in  and  had  another  mouthful  of  tea 
and  bread  and  butter;  and  although  he  had  never  been  so  tired 
as  he  was  the  night  before,  he  started  quite  fresh  this  morning. 
It  was  a  cloudy  day,  and  the  wind  blew  hard  from  the  north — 
so  hard  sometimes  that,  perched  on  the  box  with  just  his  toes 
touching  the  ground,  Diamond  wished  that  he  had  some  kind 
of  strap  to  fasten  himself  down  with  lest  he  should  be  blown 
away.    But  he  did  not  really  mind  it. 

His  head  was  full  of  the  dream  he  had  dreamed;  but  it  did 
not  make  him  neglect  his  work,  for  his  work  was  not  to  dig- 
stars  but  to  drive  old  Diamond  and  pick  up  fares.  There  are 
not  many  people  who  can  think  about  beautiful  things  and  do 
common  work  at  the  same  time.  But  then  there  are  not  many 
people  who  have  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind. 

There  was  not  much  business  doing.  And  Diamond  felt 
rather  cold,  notwithstanding  his  mother  had  herself  put  on  his 

[220] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

comforter  and  helped  him  with  his  greatcoat.  But  he  was  too 
well  aware  of  his  dignity  to  get  inside  his  cab  as  some  do.  A 
cabman  ought  to  be  above  minding  the  weather — at  least  so 
Diamond  thought.  At  length  he  was  called  to  a  neighbouring 
house,  where  a  young  woman  with  a  heavy  box  had  to  be  taken 
to  Wapping  for  a  coast-steamer. 

He  did  not  find  it  at  all  pleasant,  so  far  east  and  so  near  the 
river;  for  the  roughs  were  in  great  force  However,  there 
being  no  block,  not  even  in  Nightingale  Lane,  he  reached  the 
entrance  of  the  wharf,  and  set  down  his  passenger  without  an- 
noyance. But  as  he  turned  to  go  back,  some  idlers,  not  content 
with  chaffing  him,  showed  a  mind  to  the  fare  the  young  woman 
had  given  him.  They  were  just  pulling  him  off  the  box,  and 
Diamond  was  shouting  for  the  police,  when  a  pale-faced  man, 
in  very  shabby  clothes,  but  with  the  look  of  a  gentleman  some- 
where about  him,  came  up,  and  making  good  use  of  his  stick, 
drove  them  off. 

"Now,  my  little  man,"  he  said,  "get  on  while  you  can. 
Don't  lose  any  time.    This  is  not  a  place  for  you.'* 

But  Diamond  was  not  in  the  habit  of  thinking  only  of  him- 
self. He  saw  that  his  new  friend  looked  weary,  if  not  ill,  and 
very  poor. 

"  Won't  you  jump  in,  sir?"  he  said.  "I  will  take  you  where- 
ever  you  like." 

"Thank  you,  my  man;  but  I  have  no  money;  so  I  can't." 

"  Oh !  I  don't  want  any  money.  I  shall  be  much  happier  if 
you  will  get  in.  You  have  saved  me  all  I  had.  I  owe  you  a 
lift,  sir." 

"Which  way  are  you  going?" 

[  221  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"To  Charing  Cross;  but  I  don't  mind  where  I  go." 

"Well,  I  am  very  tired.  If  you  will  take  me  to  Charing 
Cross,  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged  to  you.  I  have  walked  from 
Gravesend,  and  had  hardly  a  penny  left  to  get  through  the 
tunnel." 

So  saying,  he  opened  the  door  and  got  in,  and  Diamond 
drove  away. 

But  as  he  drove  he  could  not  help  fancying  he  had  seen  the 
gentleman — for  Diamond  knew  he  was  a  gentleman — before. 
Do  all  he  could,  however,  he  could  not  recall  where  or  when. 
Meantime  his  fare,  if  we  may  call  him  such,  seeing  he  was  to 
pay  nothing,  whom  the  relief  of  being  carried  had  made  less 
and  less  inclined  to  carry  himself,  had  been  turning  over  things 
in  his  mind,  and,  as  they  passed  the  Mint,  called  to  Diamond, 
who  stopped  his  horse,  got  down,  and  went  to  the  window. 

"If  you  didn't  mind  taking  me  to  Chiswick,  I  should  be 
able  to  pay  you  when  we  got  there.  It's  a  long  way,  but  you 
shall  have  the  whole  fare  from  the  Docks — and  something 
over." 

"Very  well,  sir,"  said  Diamond.    "I  shall  be  most  happy." 

He  was  just  climbing  up  again,  when  the  gentleman  put 
his  head  out  of  the  window  and  said — 

"It's  The  Wilderness — Mr.  Coleman's  place;  but  I'll  direct 
you  when  we  come  into  the  neighbourhood." 

It  flashed  upon  Diamond  who  he  was.  But  he  got  upon  his 
box  to  arrange  his  thoughts  before  making  any  reply. 

The  gentleman  was  Mr.  Evans,  to  whom  Miss  Coleman  was 
to  have  been  married,  and  Diamond  had  seen  him  several 
times  with  her  in  the  garden.     I  have  said  that  he  had  not 

[222] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

behaved  very  well  to  Miss  Coleman.  He  had  put  off  their 
marriage  more  than  once  in  a  cowardly  fashion,  merely  be- 
cause he  was  ashamed  to  marry  upon  a  small  income,  and  live 
in  a  humble  way.  When  a  man  thinks  of  what  people  will  say 
in  such  a  case,  he  may  love,  but  his  love  is  but  a  poor  affair. 
Mr.  Coleman  took  him  into  the  firm  as  a  junior  partner,  and  it 
was  in  a  measure  through  his  influence  that  he  entered  upon 
those  speculations  which  ruined  him.  So  his  love  had  not 
been  a  blessing.  The  ship  which  North  Wind  had  sunk  was 
their  last  venture,  and  Mr.  Evans  had  gone  out  with  it  in  the 
hope  of  turning  its  cargo  to  the  best  advantage.  He  was  one 
of  the  single  boat-load  which  managed  to  reach  a  desert  island, 
and  he  had  gone  through  a  great  many  hardships  and  sufferings 
since  then.  But  he  was  not  past  being  taught,  and  his  troubles 
had  done  him  no  end  of  good,  for  they  had  made  him  doubt 
himself,  and  begin  to  think,  so  that  he  had  come  to  see  that  he 
had  been  foolish  as  well,  as  wicked.  For,  if  he  had  had  Miss 
Coleman  with  him  in  the  desert  island,  to  build  her  a  hut,  and 
hunt  for  her  food,  and  make  clothes  for  her,  he  would  have 
thought  himself  the  most  fortunate  of  men;  and  when  he  was* 
at  home,  he  would  not  marry  till  he  could  afford  a  man-servant. 
Before  he  got  home  again,  he  had  even  begun  to  understand 
that  no  man  can  make  haste  to  be  rich  without  going  against 
the  will  of  God,  in  which  case  it  is  the  one  frightful  thing  to 
be  successful.  So  he  had  come  back  a  more  humble  man,  and 
longing  to  ask  Miss  Coleman  to  forgive  him.  But  he  had  no 
idea  what  ruin  had  fallen  upon  them,  for  he  had  never  made 
himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  firm's  affairs.  Few 
speculative  people  do  know  their  own  affairs.    Hence  he  never 

[223  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

doubted  he  should  find  matters  much  as  he  left  them,  and  ex- 
pected to  see  them  all  at  The  Wilderness  as  before.  But  if  he 
had  not  fallen  in  with  Diamond,  he  would  not  have  thought 
of  going  there  first. 

What  was  Diamond  to  do?  He  had  heard  his  father  and 
mother  drop  some  remarks  concerning  Mr.  Evans  which  made 
him  doubtful  of  him.  He  understood  that  he  had  not  been 
so  considerate  as  he  might  have  been.  So  he  went  rather 
slowly  till  he  should  make  up  his  mind.  It  was,  of  course,  of 
no  use  to  drive  Mr.  Evans  to  Chiswick.  But  if  he  should  tell 
him  what  had  befallen  them,  and  where  they  lived  now,  he 
might  put  off  going  to  see  them,  and  he  was  certain  that  Miss 
Coleman,  at  least,  must  want  very  much  to  see  Mr.  Evans. 
He  was  pretty  sure  also  that  the  best  thing  in  any  case  was  to 
bring  them  together,  and  let  them  set  matters  right  for  them- 
selves. 

The  moment  he  came  to  this  conclusion,  he  changed  his 
course  from  westward  to  northward,  and  went  straight  for 
Mr.  Coleman's  poor  little  house  in  Hoxton.  Mr.  Evans  was 
too  tired  and  too  much  occupied  with  his  thoughts  to  take  the 
least  notice  of  the  streets  they  passed  through,  and  had  no 
suspicion,  therefore,  of  the  change  of  direction. 

By  this  time  the  wind  had  increased  almost  to  a  hurricane, 
and  as  they  had  often  to  head  it,  it  was  no  joke  for  either  of 
the  Diamonds.  The  distance,  however,  was  not  great.  Before 
they  reached  the  street  where  Mr.  Coleman  lived  it  blew  so 
tremendously,  that  when  Miss  Coleman,  who  was  going  out  a 
little  way,  opened  the  door,  it  dashed  against  the  wall  with  such 
a  bang,  that  she  was  afraid  to  venture,  and  went  in  again.    In 

[  224  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

five  minutes  after,  Diamond  drew  up  at  the  door.  As  soon  as 
he  had  entered  the  street,  however,  the  wind  blew  right  behind 
them,  and  when  he  pulled  up,  old  Diamond  had  so  much  ado 
to  stop  the  cab  against  it,  that  the  breeching  broke.  Young 
Diamond  jumped  off  his  box,  knocked  loudly  at  the  door,  then 
turned  to  the  cab  and  said — before  Mr.  Evans  had  quite  begun 
to  think  something  must  be  amiss: 

"Please,  sir,  my  harness  has  given  way.  Would  you  mind 
stepping  in  here  for  a  few  minutes?  They're  friends  of  mine. 
I'll  take  you  where  you  like  after  I've  got  it  mended.  I  shan't 
be  many  minutes,  but  you  can't  stand  in  this  wind." 

Half  stupid  with  fatigue  and  want  of  food  Mr.  Evans 
yielded  to  the  boy's  suggestion,  and  walked  in  at  the  door 
which  the  maid  held  with  difficulty  against  the  wind.  She 
took  Mr.  Evans  for  a  visitor,  as  indeed  he  was,  and  showed 
him  into  the  room  on  the  ground-floor.  Diamond,  who  had 
followed  into  the  hall,  whispered  to  her  as  she  closed  the 
door — 

"Tell  Miss  Coleman.    It's  Miss  Coleman  he  wants  to  see." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  maid.  "He  don't  look  much  like 
a  gentleman." 

"He  is,  though;  and  I  know  him,  and  so  does  Miss  Cole- 
man." 

The  maid  could  not  but  remember  Diamond,  having  seen 
him  when  he  and  his  father  brought  the  ladies  home.  So  she 
believed  him,  and  went  to  do  what  he  told  her. 

What  passed  in  the  little  parlour  when  Miss  Coleman  came 
down  does  not  belong  to  my  story,  which  is  all  about  Diamond. 
If  he  had  known  that  Miss  Coleman  thought  Mr.  Evans  was 

[225] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

dead,  perhaps  he  would  have  managed  it  differently.  There 
was  a  cry  and  a  running  to  and  fro  in  the  house,  and  then  all 
was  quiet  again. 

Almost  as  soon  as  Mr.  Evans  went  in,  the  wind  began  to 
cease,  and  was  now  still.  Diamond  found  that  by  making  the 
breeching  just  a  little  tighter  than  was  quite  comfortable  for 
the  old  horse  he  could  do  very  well  for  the  present;  and,  think- 
ing it  better  to  let  him  have  his  bag  in  this  quiet  place,  he  sat 
on  the  box  till  the  old  horse  should  have  eaten  his  dinner.  In  a 
little  while  Mr.  Evans  came  out,  and  asked  him  to  come  in. 
Diamond  obeyed,  and  to  his  delight  Miss  Coleman  put  her 
arms  round  him  and  kissed  him,  and  there  was  payment  for 
him!  not  to  mention  the  five  precious  shillings  she  gave  him, 
which  he  could  not  refuse  because  his  mother  wanted  them  so 
much  at  home  for  his  father.  He  left  them  nearly  as  happy  as 
they  were  themselves. 

The  rest  of  the  day  he  did  better,  and,  although  he  had  not 
so  much  to  take  home  as  the  day  before,  yet  on  the  whole  the 
result  was  satisfactory.  And  what  a  story  he  had  to  tell  his 
father  and  mother  about  his  adventures,  and  how  he  had  done, 
and  what  was  the  result !  They  asked  him  such  a  multitude  of 
questions!  some  of  which  he  could  answer,  and  some  of  which 
he  could  not  answer;  and  his  father  seemed  ever  so  much  better 
from  finding  that  his  boy  was  already  not  only  useful  to  his 
family  but  useful  to  other  people,  and  quite  taking  his  place  as 
a  man  who  judged  what  was  wise,  and  did  work  worth  doing. 

For  a  fortnight  Diamond  went  on  driving  his  cab,  and  keep- 
ing his  family.  He  had  begun  to  be  known  about  some  parts 
of  London,  and  people  would  prefer  taking  his  cab  because 

[226] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

they  liked  what  they  heard  of  him.  One  gentleman  who  lived 
near  the  mews,  engaged  him  to  carry  him  to  the  City  every 
morning  at  a  certain  hour;  and  Diamond  was  punctual  as 
clockwork — though  to  effect  that,  required  a  good  deal  of  care, 
for  his  father's  watch  was  not  much  to  be  depended  on,  and 
had  to  be  watched  itself  by  the  clock  of  St.  George's  church. 
Between  the  two,  however,  he  did  make  a  success  of  it. 

After  that  fortnight,  his  father  was  able  to  go  out  again. 
Then  Diamond  went  to  make  inquiries  about  Nanny,  and  this 
led  to  something  else. 


[227] 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
THE  CHILDREN'S  HOSPITAL 

THE  first  day  his  father  resumed  his  work,  Diamond 
went  with  him  as  usual.  In  the  afternoon,  however, 
his  father,  having  taken  a  fare  to  the  neighbourhood, 
went  home,  and  Diamond  drove  the  cab  the  rest  of  the  day. 
It  was  hard  for  old  Diamond  to  do  all  the  work,  but  they  could 
not  afford  to  have  another  horse.  They  contrived  to  save  him 
as  much  as  possible,  and  fed  him  well,  and  he  did  bravely. 

The  next  morning  his  father  was  so  much  stronger  that  Dia- 
mond thought  he  might  go  and  ask  Mr.  Raymond  to  take  him 
to  see  Nanny.  He  found  him  at  home.  His  servant  had  grown 
friendly  by  this  time,  and  showed  him  in  without  any  cross- 
questioning.  Mr.  Raymond  received  him  with  his  usual  kind- 
ness, consented  at  once,  and  walked  with  him  to  the  Hospital, 
which  was  close  at  hand.  It  was  a  comfortable  old-fashioned 
house,  built  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  and  in  her  day,  no 
doubt,  inhabited  by  rich  and  fashionable  people;  now  it  was  a 
home  for  poor  sick  children,  who  were  carefully  tended  for 
love's  sake.  There  are  regions  in  London  where  a  hospital  in 
every  other  street  might  be  full  of  such  children,  whose  fathers 
and  mothers  are  dead,  or  unable  to  take  care  of  them. 

When  Diamond  followed  Mr.  Raymond  into  the  room 
where  those  children  who  had  got  over  the  worst  of  their  illness 
and  were  growing  better  lay,  he  saw  a  number  of  little  iron  bed- 
steads, with  their  heads  to  the  walls,  and  in  every  one  of  them 

[228] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

a  child,  whose  face  was  a  story  in  itself.  In  some,  health  had 
begun  to  appear  in  a  tinge  upon  the  cheeks,  and  a  doubtful 
brightness  in  the  eyes,  just  as  out  of  the  cold  dreary  winter  the 
spring  comes  in  blushing  buds  and  bright  crocuses.  In  others 
there  were  more  of  the  signs  of  winter  left.  Their  faces  re- 
minded you  of  snow  and  keen  cutting  winds,  more  than  of 
sunshine  and  soft  breezes  and  butterflies ;  but  even  in  them  the 
signs  of  suffering  told  that  the  suffering  was  less,  and  that  if  the 
spring-time  had  but  arrived,  it  had  yet  arrived. 

Diamond  looked  all  round,  but  could  see  no  Nanny.  He 
turned  to  Mr.  Raymond  with  a  question  in  his  eyes. 

"Well?"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"Nanny's  not  here,"  said  Diamond. 

"Oh,  yes,  she  is." 

"I  don't  see  her." 

"I  do,  though.    There  she  is." 

He  pointed  to  a  bed  right  in  front  of  where  Diamond  was 
standing. 

"That's  not  Nanny,"  he  said. 

'It  is  Nanny.  I  have  seen  her  many  times  since  you  have. 
Illness  makes  a  great  difference." 

"Why,  that  girl  must  have  been  to  the  back  of  the  north 
wind!"  thought  Diamond,  but  he  said  nothing,  only  stared; 
and  as  he  stared,  something  of  the  old  Nanny  began  to  dawn 
through  the  face  of  the  new  Nanny.  The  old  Nanny,  though 
a  good  girl,  and  a  friendly  girl,  had  been  rough,  blunt  in  her 
speech,  and  dirty  in  her  person.  Her  face  would  always  have 
reminded  one  who  had  already  been  to  the  back  of  the  north 
wind  of  something  he  had  seen  in  the  best  of  company,  but  it 

[229] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

liad  been  coarse  notwithstanding,  partly  from  the  weather, 
partly  from  her  living  amongst  low  people,  and  partly  from 
having  to  defend  herself:  now  it  was  so  sweet,  and  gentle, 
and  refined,  that  she  might  have  had  a  lady  and  gentleman  for 
a  father  and  mother.  And  Diamond  could  not  help  thinking 
of  words  which  he  had  heard  in  the  church  the  day  before: 
"Surely  it  is  good  to  be  afflicted;"  or  something  like  that. 
North  Wind,  somehow  or  other,  must  have  had  to  do  with  her ! 
She  had  grown  from  a  rough  girl  into  a  gentle  maiden. 

Mr.  Raymond,  however,  was  not  surprised,  for  he  was  used 
to  see  such  lovely  changes — something  like  the  change  which 
passes  upon  the  crawling,  many-footed  creature,  when  it  turns 
sick  and  ill,  and  revives  a  butterfly,  with  two  wings  instead  of 
many  feet.  Instead  of  her  having  to  take  care  of  herself,  kind 
hands  ministered  to  her,  making  her  comfortable  and  sweet  and 
clean,  soothing  her  aching  head,  and  giving  her  cooling  drink 
when  she  was  thirsty;  and  kind  eyes,  the  stars  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  had  shone  upon  her;  so  that,  what  with  the  fire  of 
the  fever  and  the  dew  of  tenderness,  that  which  was  coarse  in 
her  had  melted  away,  and  her  whole  face  had  grown  so  refined 
and  sweet  that  Diamond  did  not  know  her.  But  as  he  gazed, 
the  best  of  the  old  face,  all  the  true  and  good  part  of  it,  that 
which  was  Nanny  herself,  dawned  upon  him,  like  the  moon 
coming  out  of  a  cloud,  until  at  length,  instead  of  only  believing 
Mr.  Raymond  that  this  was  she,  he  saw  for  himself  that  it  was 
Nanny  indeed — very  worn,  but  grown  beautiful. 

He  went  up  to  her.  She  smiled.  He  had  heard  her  laugh, 
but  had  never  seen  her  smile  before. 

"Nanny,  do  you  know  me?"  said  Diamond. 

[230] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

She  only  smiled  again,  as  if  the  question  was  amusing. 

She  was  not  likely  to  forget  him;  for  although  she  did  not 
yet  know  it  was  he  who  had  got  her  there,  she  had  dreamed  of 
him  often,  and  had  talked  much  about  him  when  delirious. 
Nor  was  it  much  wonder,  for  he  was  the  only  boy  except  Joe 
who  had  ever  shown  her  kindness. 

Meantime  Mr.  Raymond  was  going  from  bed  to  bed,  talk- 
ing to  the  little  people.  Every  one  knew  him,  and  every  one 
was  eager  to  have  a  look,  and  a  smile,  and  a  kind  word  from 
him.  Diamond  sat  down  on  a  stool  at  the  head  of  Nanny's 
bed.  She  laid  her  hand  in  his.  No  one  else  of  her  old  acquain- 
tance had  been  near  her. 

Suddenly  a  little  voice  called  aloud- — 

"Won't  Mr.  Raymond  tell  us  a  story?" 

"Oh,  yes,  please  do!  please  do!"  cried  several  little  voices 
which  also  were  stronger  than  the  rest.  For  Mr.  Raymond 
was  in  the  habit  of  telling  them  a  story  when  he  went  to  see 
them,  and  they  enjoyed  it  far  more  than  the  other  nice  things 
which  the  doctor  permitted  him  to  give  them. 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  "I  will.  What  sort  of  a 
story  shall  it  be?" 

"A  true  story,"  said  one  little  girl. 

"A  fairy  tale,"  said  a  little  boy. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  "I  suppose,  as  there  is  a  dif- 
ference, I  may  choose.  I  can't  think  of  any  true  story  just  at 
this  moment,  so  I  will  tell  you  a  sort  of  a  fairy  one." 

"Oh,  jolly!"  exclaimed  the  little  boy  who  had  called  out  for 
a  fairy  tale. 

"It  came  into  my  head  this  morning  as  I  got  out  of  bed," 

[  231  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

continued  Mr.  Raymond;  "and  if  it  turns  out  pretty  well,  I 
will  write  it  down,  and  get  somebody  to  print  it  for  me,  and 
then  you  shall  read  it  when  you  like." 

"Then  nobody  ever  heard  it  before?"  asked  one  older  child. 

"No,  nobody." 

"  Oh !"  exclaimed  several,  thinking  it  very  grand  to  have  the 
first  telling;  and  I  dare  say  there  might  be  a  peculiar  freshness 
about  it,  because  everything  would  be  nearly  as  new  to  the 
story-teller  himself  as  to  the  listeners. 

Some  were  only  sitting  up  and  some  were  lying  down,  so 
there  could  not  be  the  same  busy  gathering,  and  bustling,  and 
shifting  to  and  fro  with  which  children  generally  prepare  them- 
selves to  hear  a  story;  but  their  faces,  and  the  turning  of  their 
heads,  and  many  feeble  exclamations  of  expected  pleasure, 
showed  that  all  such  preparations  were  making  within 
them. 

Mr.  Raymond  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  that  he 
might  turn  from  side  to  side,  and  give  each  a  share  of  seeing 
him.  Diamond  kept  his  place  by  Nanny's  side,  with  her  hand 
in  his.  I  do  not  know  how  much  of  Mr.  Raymond's  story  the 
smaller  children  understood;  indeed,  I  don't  quite  know  how 
much  there  was  in  it  to  be  understood,  for  in  such  a  story  every 
one  has  just  to  take  what  he  can  get.  But  they  all  listened 
with  apparent  satisfaction,  and  certainly  with  great  attention. 
Mr.  Raymond  wrote  it  down  afterwards,  and  here  it  is — some- 
what altered,  no  doubt,  for  a  good  story-teller  tries  to  make  his 
stories  better  every  time  he  tells  them.  I  cannot  myself  help 
thinking  that  he  was  somewhat  indebted  for  this  one  to  the 

old  story  of  The  Sleeping  Beauty. 

[232] 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
LITTLE  DAYLIGHT 

NO  house  of  any  pretension  to  be  called  a  palace  is  in  the 
least  worthy  of  the  name,  except  it  has  a  wood  near  it 
— very  near  it — and  the  nearer  the  better.  Not  all 
round  it — I  don't  mean  that,  for  a  palace  ought  to  be  open  to 
the  sun  and  wind,  and  stand  high  and  brave,  with  weather- 
cocks glittering  and  flags  flying;  but  on  one  side  of  every 
palace  there  must  be  a  wood.  And  there  was  a  very  grand 
wood  indeed  beside  the  palace  of  the  king  who  was  going  to  be 
Daylight's  father;  such  a  grand  wood,  that  nobody  yet  had 
ever  got  to  the  other  end  of  it.  Near  the  house  it  was  kept  very 
trim  and  nice,  and  it  was  free  of  brushwood  for  a  long  way  in; 
but  by  degrees  it  got  wild,  and  it  grew  wilder,  and  wilder,  and 
wilder,  until  some  said  wild  beasts  at  last  did  what  they  liked 
in  it.  The  king  and  his  courtiers  often  hunted,  however,  and 
this  kept  the  wild  beasts  far  away  from  the  palace. 

One  glorious  summer  morning,  when  the  wind  and  sun  were 
out  together,  when  the  vanes  were  flashing  and  the  flags  frolick- 
ing against  the  blue  sky,  little  Daylight  made  her  appearance 
from  somewhere — nobody  could  tell  where — a  beautiful  baby, 
with  such  bright  eyes  that  she  might  have  come  from  the  sun, 
only  by  and  by  she  showed  such  lively  ways  that  she  might 
equally  well  have  come  out  of  the  wind.  There  was  great  ju- 
bilation in  the  palace,  for  this  was  the  first  baby  the  queen  had 
had,  and  there  is  as  much  happiness  over  a  new  baby  in  a 
palace  as  in  a  cottage. 

[233  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

But  there  is  one  disadvantage  of  living  near  a  wood;  you 
do  not  know  quite  who  your  neighbors  may  be.  Everybody 
knew  there  were  in  it  several  fairies,  living  within  a  few  miles 
of  the  palace,  who  always  had  had  something  to  do  with  each 
new  baby  that  came;  for  fairies  live  so  much  longer  than  we, 
that  they  can  have  business  with  a  good  many  generations  of 
human  mortals.  The  curious  houses  they  lived  in  were  well 
known  also, — one,  a  hollow  oak;  another,  a  birch -tree,  though 
nobody  could  ever  find  how  that  fairy  made  a  house  of  it; 
another,  a  hut  of  growing  trees  intertwined,  and  patched  up 
with  turf  and  moss.  But  there  was  another  fairy  who  had 
lately  come  to  the  place,  and  nobody  even  knew  she  was  a  fairy 
except  the  other  fairies.  A  wicked  old  thing  she  was,  always 
concealing  her  power,  and  being  as  disagreeable  as  she  could, 
in  order  to  tempt  people  to  give  her  offence,  that  she  might 
have  the  pleasure  of  taking  vengeance  upon  them.  The  people 
about  thought  she  was  a  witch,  and  those  who  knew  her  by 
sight  were  careful  to  avoid  offending  her.  She  lived  in  a  mud 
house,  in  a  swampy  part  of  the  forest. 

In  all  history  we  find  that  fairies  give  their  remarkable 
gifts  to  prince  or  princess,  or  any  child  of  sufficient  importance 
in  their  eyes,  always  at  the  christening.  Now  this  we  can 
understand,  because  it  is  an  ancient  custom  amongst  human 
beings  as  well;  and  it  is  not  hard  to  explain  why  wicked  fairies 
should  choose  the  same  time  to  do  unkind  things;  but  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  how  they  should  be  able  to  do  them,  for 
you  would  fancy  all  wicked  creatures  would  be  powerless  on 
such  an  occasion.  But  I  never  knew  of  any  interference  on  the 
part  of  a  wicked  fairy  that  did  not  turn  out  a  good  thing  in  the 

[  234] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

end.  What  a  good  thing,  for  instance,  it  was  that  one  princess 
should  sleep  for  a  hundred  years !  Was  she  not  saved  from  all 
the  plague  of  young  men  who  were  not  worthy  of  her?  And 
did  she  not  come  awake  exactly  at  the  right  moment  when  the 
right  prince  kissed  her?  For  my  part,  I  cannot  help  wishing 
a  good  many  girls  would  sleep  till  just  the  same  fate  overtook 
them.  It  would  be  happier  for  them,  and  more  agreeable  to 
their  friends. 

Of  course  all  the  known  fairies  were  invited  to  the  christen- 
ing. But  the  king  and  queen  never  thought  of  inviting  an  old 
witch.  For  the  power  of  the  fairies  they  have  by  nature; 
whereas  a  witch  gets  her  power  by  wickedness.  The  other 
fairies,  however,  knowing  the  danger  thus  run,  provided  as 
well  as  they  could  against  accidents  from  her  quarter.  But 
they  could  neither  render  her  powerless,  nor  could  they  arrange 
their  gifts  in  reference  to  hers  beforehand,  for  they  could  not 
tell  what  those  might  be. 

Of  course  the  old  hag  was  there  without  being  asked.  Not 
to  be  asked  was  just  what  she  wanted,  that  she  might  have  a 
sort  of  a  reason  for  doing  what  she  wished  to  do.  For  somehow 
even  the  wickedest  of  creatures  likes  a  pretext  for  doing  the 
wrong  thing. 

Five  fairies  had  one  after  the  other  given  the  child  such  gifts 
as  each  counted  best,  and  the  fifth  had  just  stepped  back  to 
her  place  in  the  surrounding  splendor  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, when,  mumbling  a  laugh  between  her  toothless  gums,  the 
wicked  fairy  hobbled  out  into  the  middle  of  the  circle,  and  at 
the  moment  when  the  archbishop  was  handing  the  baby  to  the 
lady  at  the  head  of  the  nursery  department  of  state  affairs, 

[235] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

addressed  him  thus,  giving  a  bite  or  two  to  every  word  before 
she  could  part  with  it: 

"Please  your  Grace,  I'm  very  deaf:  would  your  Grace 
mind  repeating  the  princess's  name?" 

"With  pleasure,  my  good  woman,"  said  the  archbishop, 
stooping  to  shout  in  her  ear;  "the  infant's  name  is  little  Day- 
light." 

"And  little  daylight  it  shall  be,"  cried  the  fairy,  in  the  tone 
of  a  dry  axle,  "and  little  good  shall  any  of  her  gifts  do  her. 
For  I  bestow  upon  her  the  gift  of  sleeping  all  day  long,  whether 
she  will  or  not.    Ha,  ha !    He,  he !    Hi,  hi !" 

Then  out  started  the  sixth  fairy,  who,  of  course,  the  others 
had  arranged  should  come  after  the  wicked  one,  in  order  to 
undo  as  much  as  she  might. 

"If  she  sleep  all  day,"  she  said,  mournfully,  "she  shall,  at 
least,  wake  all  night." 

"A  nice  prospect  for  her  mother  and  me!"  thought  the  poor 
king;  for  they  loved  her  far  too  much  to  give  her  up  to  nurses, 
especially  at  night,  as  most  kings  and  queens  do — and  are  sorry 
for  it  afterwards. 

"You  spoke  before  I  had  done,"  said  the  wicked  fairy. 
"That's  against  the  law.    It  gives  me  another  chance." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  other  fairies,  all  together. 

"She  did.  I  hadn't  done  laughing,"  said  the  crone.  "I 
had  only  got  to  Hi,  hi!  and  I  had  to  go  through  Ho,  ho!  and 
Hu,  hu!  So  I  decree  that  if  she  wakes  all  night  she  shall  wax 
and  wane  with  its  mistress  the  moon.  And  what  that  may 
mean  I  hope  her  royal  parents  will  live  to  see.  Ho,  ho!  Hu, 
hu!" 

[236] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

But  out  stepped  another  fairy,  for  they  had  been  wise 
enough  to  keep  two  in  reserve,  because  every  fairy  knew  the 
trick  of  one. 

"Until,"  said  the  seventh  fairy,  "a  prince  comes  who  shall 
kiss  her  without  knowing  it." 

The  wicked  fairy  made  a  horrid  noise  like  an  angry  cat,  and 
hobbled  away.  She  could  not  pretend  that  she  had  not  finished 
her  speech  this  time,  for  she  had  laughed  Ho,  ho !  and  Hu,  hu ! 

"I  don't  know  what  that  means,"  said  the  poor  king  to  the 
seventh  fairy. 

"Don't  be  afraid.  The  meaning  will  come  with  the  thing 
itself,"  said  she. 

The  assembly  broke  up,  miserable  enough- — the  queen,  at 
least,  prepared  for  a  good  many  sleepless  nights,  and  the  lady 
at  the  head  of  the  nursery  department  anything  but  comfort- 
able in  the  prospect  before  her,  for  of  course  the  queen  could 
not  do  it  all.  As  for  the  king,  he  made  up  his  mind,  with  what 
courage  he  could  summon,  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  case, 
but  wondered  whether  he  could  with  any  propriety  require 
the  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  to  take  a  share  of  the  burden 
laid  upon  him. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  what  they  had  to  go  through 
for  some  time.  But  at  last  the  household  settled  into  a  regular 
system — a  very  irregular  one  in  some  respects.  For  at  certain 
seasons  the  palace  rang  all  night  with  bursts  of  laughter  from 
little  Daylight,  whose  heart  the  old  fairy's  curse  could  not 
reach;  she  was  Daylight  still,  only  a  little  in  the  wrong  place, 
for  she  always  dropped  asleep  at  the  first  hint  of  dawn  in  the 
east.    But  her  merriment  was  of  short  duration.    When  the 

[237] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

moon  was  at  the  full,  she  was  in  glorious  spirits,  and  as  beauti- 
ful as  it  was  possible  for  a  child  of  her  age  to  be.  But  as  the 
moon  waned,  she  faded,  until  at  last  she  was  wan  and  withered 
like  the  poorest,  sickliest  child  you  might  come  upon  in  the 
streets  of  a  great  city  in  the  arms  of  a  homeless  mother.  Then 
the  night  was  quiet  as  the  day,  for  the  little  creature  lay  in  her 
gorgeous  cradle  night  and  day  with  hardly  a  motion,  and  indeed 
at  last  without  even  a  moan,  like  one  dead.  At  first  they  often 
thought  she  was  dead,  but  at  last  they  got  used  to  it,  and  only 
consulted  the  almanac  to  find  the  moment  when  she  would 
begin  to  revive,  which,  of  course,  was  with  the  first  appearance 
of  the  silver  thread  of  the  crescent  moon.  Then  she  would 
move  her  lips,  and  they  would  give  her  a  little  nourishment; 
and  she  would  grow  better  and  better  and  better,  until  for  a 
few  days  she  was  splendidly  well.  When  well,  she  was  always 
merriest  out  in  the  moonlight;  but  even  when  near  her  worst, 
she  seemed  better  when,  in  warm  summer  nights,  they  carried 
her  cradle  out  into  the  light  of  the  waning  moon.  Then  in  her 
sleep  she  would  smile  the  faintest,  most  pitiful  smile. 

For  a  long  time  very  few  people  ever  saw  her  awake.  As 
she  grew  older  she  became  such  a  favorite,  however,  that 
about  the  palace  there  were  always  some  who  would  contrive 
to  keep  awake  at  night,  in  order  to  be  near  her.  But  she  soon 
began  to  take  every  chance  of  getting  away  from  her  nurses  and 
enjoying  her  moonlight  alone.  And  thus  things  went  on  until 
she  was  nearly  seventeen  years  of  age.  Her  father  and  mother 
had  by  that  time  got  so  used  to  the  odd  state  of  things  that  they 
had  ceased  to  wonder  at  them.  All  their  arrangements  had 
reference  to  the  state  of  the  Princess  Daylight,  and  it  is  amaz- 

[238] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

ing  how  things  contrive  to  accommodate  themselves.  But 
how  any  prince  was  ever  to  find  and  deliver  her,  appeared  in- 
conceivable. 

As  she  grew  older  she  had  grown  more  and  more  beautiful, 
with  the  sunniest  hair  and  the  loveliest  eyes  of  heavenly  blue, 
brilliant  and  profound  as  the  sky  of  a  June  day.  But  so  much 
more  painful  and  sad  was  the  change  as  her  bad  time  came  on. 
The  more  beautiful  she  was  in  the  full  moon,  the  more  withered 
and  worn  did  she  become  as  the  moon  waned.  At  the  time  at 
which  my  story  has  now  arrived,  she  looked,  when  the  moon 
was  small  or  gone,  like  an  old  woman  exhausted  with  suffering. 
This  was  the  more  painful  that  her  appearance  was  unnatural; 
for  her  hair  and  eyes  did  not  change.  Her  wan  face  was  both 
drawn  and  wrinkled,  and  had  an  eager  hungry  look.  Her 
skinny  hands  moved  as  if  wishing,  but  unable,  to  lay  hold  of 
something.  Her  shoulders  were  bent  forward,  her  chest  went 
in,  and  she  stooped  as  if  she  were  eighty  years  old.  At  last 
she  had  to  be  put  to  bed,  and  there  await  the  flow  of  the  tide 
of  life.  But  she  grew  to  dislike  being  seen,  still  more  being 
touched  by  any  hands,  during  this  season.  One  lovely  summer 
evening,  when  the  moon  lay  all  but  gone  upon  the  verge  of  the 
horizon,  she  vanished  from  her  attendants,  and  it  was  only 
after  searching  for  her  a  long  time  in  great  terror,  that  they 
found  her  fast  asleep  in  the  forest,  at  the  foot  of  a  silver  birch, 
and  carried  her  home. 

A  little  way  from  the  palace  there  was  a  great  open  glade, 
covered  with  the  greenest  and  softest  grass.  This  was  her 
favorite  haunt;  for  here  the  full  moon  shone  free  and  glori- 
ous, while  through  a  vista  in  the  trees  she  could  generally  see 

[  239  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

more  or  less  of  the  dying  moon  as  it  crossed  the  opening.  Here 
she  had  a  little  rustic  house  built  for  her,  and  here  she  mostly 
resided.  None  of  the  court  might  go  there  without  leave,  and 
her  own  attendants  had  learned  by  this  time  not  to  be  officious 
in  waiting  upon  her,  so  that  she  was  very  much  at  liberty. 
Whether  the  good  fairies  had  anything  to  do  with  it  or  not 
I  cannot  tell,  but  at  last  she  got  into  the  way  of  retreating  fur- 
ther into  the  wood  every  night  as  the  moon  waned,  so  that 
sometimes  they  had  great  trouble  in  finding  her;  but  as  she 
was  always  very  angry  if  she  discovered  they  were  watching 
her,  they  scarcely  dared  to  do  so.  At  length  one  night  they 
thought  they  had  lost  her  altogether.  It  was  morning  before 
they  found  her.  Feeble  as  she  was,  she  had  wandered  into  a 
thicket  a  long  way  from  the  glade,  and  there  she  lay — fast 
asleep,  of  course. 

Although  the  fame  of  her  beauty  and  sweetness  had  gone 
abroad,  yet  as  everybody  knew  she  was  under  a  bad  spell,  no 
king  in  the  neighborhood  had  any  desire  to  have  her  for  a 
daughter-in-law.  There  were  serious  objections  to  such  a  rela- 
tion. 

About  this  time  in  a  neighboring  kingdom,  in  consequence 
of  the  wickedness  of  the  nobles,  an  insurrection  took  place 
upon  the  death  of  the  old  king,  the  greater  part  of  the  nobility 
was  massacred,  and  the  young  prince  was  compelled  to  flee  for 
his  life,  disguised  like  a  peasant.  For  some  time,  until  he  got 
out  of  the  country,  he  suffered  much  from  hunger  and  fatigue; 
but  when  he  got  into  that  ruled  by  the  princess's  father,  and 
had  no  longer  any  fear  of  being  recognized,  he  fared  better,  for 
the  people  were  kind.    He  did  not  abandon  his  disguise,  how- 

[240] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

ever.  One  tolerable  reason  was  that  he  had  no  other  clothes 
to  put  on,  and  another  that  he  had  very  little  money,  and  did 
not  know  where  to  get  any  more.  There  was  no  good  in  telling 
everybody  he  met  that  he  was  a  prince,  for  he  felt  that  a  prince 
ought  to  be  able  to  get  on  like  other  people,  else  his  rank  only 
made  a  fool  of  him.  He  had  read  of  princes  setting  out  upon 
adventure;  and  here  he  was  out  in  similar  case,  only  without 
having  had  a  choice  in  the  matter.  He  would  go  on,  and  see 
what  would  come  of  it. 

For  a  day  or  two  he  had  been  walking  through  the  palace- 
wood,  and  had  had  next  to  nothing  to  eat,  when  he  came  upon 
the  strangest  little  house,  inhabited  by  a  very  nice  tidy  moth- 
erly old  woman.  This  was  one  of  the  good  fairies.  The  mo- 
ment she  saw  him  she  knew  quite  well  who  he  was  and  what 
was  going  to  come  of  it;  but  she  was  not  at  liberty  to  interfere 
with  the  orderly  march  of  events.  She  received  him  with  the 
kindness  she  would  have  shown  to  any  other  traveller,  and  gave 
him  bread  and  milk,  which  he  thought  the  most  delicious  food 
he  had  ever  tasted,  wondering  that  they  did  not  have  it  for 
dinner  at  the  palace  sometimes.  The  old  woman  pressed 
him  to  stay  all  night.  When  he  awoke  he  was  amazed  to 
find  how  well  and  strong  he  felt.  She  would  not  take  any  of 
the  money  he  offered,  but  begged  him,  if  he  found  occasion  of 
continuing  in  the  neighborhood,  to  return  and  occupy  the 
same  quarters. 

"Thank  you  much,  good  mother,"  answered  the  prince; 
"but  there  is  little  chance  of  that.  The  sooner  I  get  out  of 
this  wood  the  better." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  the  fairy. 

[  241  ]' 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Why  how  should  I  know?"  returned  she. 

"I  can't  tell,"  said  the  prince. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  fairy. 

"How  strangely  you  talk!"  said  the  prince. 

"Do  I?"  said  the  fairy. 

"Yes,  you  do,"  said  the  prince. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  fairy. 

The  prince  was  not  used  to  be  spoken  to  in  this  fashion,  so 
he  felt  a  little  angry,  and  turned  and  walked  away.  But  this 
did  not  offend  the  fairy.  She  stood  at  the  door  of  her  little 
house  looking  after  him  till  the  trees  hid  him  quite.  Then  she 
said  "At  last!"  and  went  in. 

The  prince  wandered  and  wandered,  and  got  nowhere.  The 
sun  sank  and  sank  and  went  out  of  sight,  and  he  seemed  no 
nearer  the  end  of  the  wood  than  ever.  He  sat  down  on  a 
fallen  tree,  ate  a  bit  of  bread  the  old  woman  had  given  him, 
and  waited  for  the  moon;  for,  although  he  was  not  much  of  an 
astronomer,  he  knew  the  moon  would  rise  some  time,  because 
she  had  risen  the  night  before.  Up  she  came,  slow  and  slow, 
but  of  a  good  size,  pretty  nearly  round  indeed;  whereupon, 
greatly  refreshed  with  his  piece  of  bread,  he  got  up  and  went 
— he  knew  not  whither. 

After  walking  a  considerable  distance,  he  thought  he  was 
coming  to  the  outside  of  the  forest;  but  when  he  reached  what 
he  thought  the  last  of  it,  he  found  himself  only  upon  the  edge 
of  a  great  open  space  in  it,  covered  with  grass.  The  moon 
shone  very  bright,  and  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  a  more 

{242] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

lovely  spot.  Still  it  looked  dreary  because  of  its  loneliness, 
for  he  could  not  see  the  house  at  the  other  side.  He  sat  down 
weary  again,  and  gazed  into  the  glade.  He  had  not  seen  so 
much  room  for  several  days. 

All  at  once  he  spied  something  in  the  middle  of  the  grass. 
What  could  it  be?  It  moved;  it  came  nearer.  Was  it  a 
human  creature,  gliding  across — a  girl  dressed  in  white,  gleam- 
ing in  the  moonshine?  She  came  nearer  and  nearer.  He  crept 
behind  a  tree  and  watched,  wondering.  It  must  be  some 
strange  being  of  the  wood — a  nymph  whom  the  moonlight  and 
the  warm  dusky  air  had  enticed  from  her  tree.  But  when  she 
came  close  to  where  he  stood,  he  no  longer  doubted  she  was 
human — for  he  had  caught  sight  of  her  sunny  hair,  and  her 
clear  blue  eyes,  and  the  loveliest  face  and  form  that  he  had 
ever  seen.  All  at  once  she  began  singing  like  a  nightingale, 
and  dancing  to  her  own  music,  with  her  eyes  ever  turned  to- 
wards the  moon.  She  passed  close  to  where  he  stood,  dancing 
on  by  the  edge  of  the  trees  and  away  in  a  great  circle  towards 
the  other  side,  until  he  could  see  but  a  spot  of  white  in  the 
yellowish  green  of  the  moonlit  grass.  But  when  he  feared  it 
would  vanish  quite,  the  spot  grew,  and  became  a  figure  once 
more.  She  approached  him  again,  singing  and  dancing  and 
waving  her  arms  over  her  head,  until  she  had  completed  the 
circle.  Just  opposite  his  tree  she  stood,  ceased  her  song, 
dropped  her  arms,  and  broke  out  into  a  long  clear  laugh, 
musical  as  a  brook.  Then,  as  if  tired,  she  threw  herself  on  the 
grass,  and  lay  gazing  at  the  moon.  The  prince  was  almost 
afraid  to  breathe  lest  he  should  startle  her,  and  she  should 

[US] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

vanish  from  his  sight.  As  to  venturing  near  her,  that  never 
came  into  his  head. 

She  had  lain  for  a  long  hour  or  longer,  when  the  prince  be- 
gan again  to  doubt  concerning  her.  Perhaps  she  was  but  a 
vision  of  his  own  fancy.  Or  was  she  a  spirit  of  the  wood, 
after  all?  If  so,  he  too  would  haunt  the  wood,  glad  to  have 
lost  kingdom  and  everything  for  the  hope  of  being  near  her. 
He  would  build  him  a  hut  in  the  forest,  and  there  he  would 
live  for  the  pure  chance  of  seeing  her  again.  Upon  nights  like 
this  at  least  she  would  come  out  and  bask  in  the  moonlight, 
and  make  his  soul  blessed.  But  while  he  thus  dreamed  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  turned  her  face  full  to  the  moon,  and  began 
singing  as  if  she  would  draw  her  down  from  the  sky  by  the 
power  of  her  entrancing  voice.  She  looked  more  beautiful 
than  ever.  Again  she  began  dancing  to  her  own  music,  and 
danced  away  into  the  distance.  Once  more  she  returned  in  a 
similar  manner;  but  although  he  was  watching  as  eagerly  as 
before,  what  with  fatigue  and  what  with  gazing,  he  fell  fast 
asleep  before  she  came  near  him.  When  he  awoke  it  was 
broad  daylight,  and  the  princess  was  nowhere. 

He  could  not  leave  the  place.  What  if  she  should  come  the 
next  night!  He  would  gladly  endure  a  day's  hunger  to  see 
her  again:  he  would  buckle  his  belt  quite  tight.  He  walked 
round  the  glade  to  see  if  he  could  discover  any  prints  of  her 
feet.  But  the  grass  was  so  short,  and  her  steps  had  been  so 
light,  that  she  had  not  left  a  single  trace  behind  her. 

He  walked  half-way  round  the  wood  without  seeing  any- 
thing to  account  for  her  presence.  Then  he  spied  a  lovely  little 
house,  with  thatched  roof  and  low  eaves,  surrounded  by  an 

[244] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

exquisite  garden,  with  doves  and  peacocks  walking  in  it.  Of 
course  this  must  be  where  the  gracious  lady  who  loved  the 
moonlight  lived.  Forgetting  his  appearance,  he  walked  to 
wards  the  door,  determined  to  make  inquiries,  but  as  he  passed 
a  little  pond  full  of  gold  and  silver  fishes,  he  caught  sight  of 
himself  and  turned  to  find  the  door  to  the  kitchen.  There  he 
knocked,  and  asked  for  a  piece  of  bread.  The  good-natured 
cook  brought  him  in,  and  gave  him  an  excellent  breakfast, 
which  the  prince  found  nothing  the  worse  for  being  served  in 
the  kitchen.  While  he  ate,  he  talked  with  his  entertainer,  and 
learned  that  this  was  the  favorite  retreat  of  the  Princess  Day- 
light. But  he  learned  nothing  more,  both  because  he  was 
afraid  of  seeming  inquisitive,  and  because  the  cook  did  not 
choose  to  be  heard  talking  about  her  mistress  to  a  peasant  lad 
who  had  begged  for  his  breakfast. 

As  he  rose  to  take  his  leave,  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might 
not  be  so  far  from  the  old  woman's  cottage  as  he  had  thought, 
and  he  asked  the  cook  whether  she  knew  anything  of  such  a 
place,  describing  it  as  well  as  he  could.  She  said  she  knew  it 
well  enough,  adding  with  a  smile — 

"It's  there  you're  going,  is  it?" 

"Yes,  if  it's  not  far  off." 

"It's  not  more  than  three  miles.  But  mind  what  you  are 
about,  you  know." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"If  you're  after  any  mischief,  she'll  make  you  repent  it." 

"The  best  thing  that  could  happen  under  the  circum- 
stances," remarked  the  prince. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  asked  the  cook. 

[245  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Why,  it  stands  to  reason,"  answered  the  prince,  "that  if 
you  wish  to  do  anything  wrong,  the  best  thing  for  you  is  to  be 
made  to  repent  of  it." 

"I  see,"  said  the  cook.  "Well,  I  think  you  may  venture. 
She's  a  good  old  soul." 

''Which  way  does  it  lie  from  here?"  asked  the  prince. 

She  gave  him  full  instructions;  and  he  left  her  with  many 
thanks. 

Being  now  refreshed,  however,  the  prince  did  not  go  back  to 
the  cottage  that  day :  he  remained  in  the  forest,  amusing  him- 
self as  best  he  could,  but  waiting  anxiously  for  the  night,  in  the 
hope  that  the  princess  would  again  appear.  Nor  was  he  dis- 
appointed, for,  directly  the  moon  rose,  he  spied  a  glimmering 
shape  far  across  the  glade.  As  it  drew  nearer,  he  saw  it  was 
she  indeed — not  dressed  in  white  as  before:  in  a  pale  blue  like 
the  sky,  she  looked  lovelier  still.  He  thought  it  was  that  the 
blue  suited  her  better  than  the  white;  he  did  not  know  that 
she  was  really  more  beautiful  because  the  moon  was  nearer  the 
full.  In  fact  the  next  night  was  full  moon,  and  the  princess 
would  then  be  at  the  zenith  of  her  loveliness. 

The  prince  feared  for  some  time  that  she  was  not  coming 
near  his  hiding-place  that  night;  but  the  circles  in  her  dance 
ever  widened  as  the  moon  rose,  until  at  last  they  embraced  the 
whole  glade,  and  she  came  still  closer  to  the  trees  where  he 
was  hiding  than  she  had  come  the  night  before.  He  was  en- 
tranced with  her  loveliness,  for  it  was  indeed  a  marvellous 
thing.  All  night  long  he  watched  her,  but  dared  not  go  near 
her.  He  would  have  been  ashamed  of  watching  her  too,  had  he 
not  become  almost  incapable  of  thinking  of  anything  but  how 

[246  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

beautiful  she  was.  He  watched  the  whole  night  long,  and  saw 
that  as  the  moon  went  down  she  retreated  in  smaller  and 
smaller  circles,  until  at  last  he  could  see  her  no  more. 

Weary  as  he  was,  he  set  out  for  the  old  woman's  cottage, 
where  he  arrived  just  in  time  for  her  breakfast,  which  she 
shared  with  him.  He  then  went  to  bed,  and  slept  for  many 
hours.  When  he  awoke,  the  sun  was  down,  and  he  departed  in 
great  anxiety  lest  he  should  lose  a  glimpse  of  the  lovely  vision. 
But,  whether  it  was  by  the  machinations  of  the  swamp-fairy,  or 
merely  that  it  is  one  thing  to  go  and  another  to  return  by  the 
same  road,  he  lost  his  way.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  his 
misery  when  the  moon  rose,  and  he  saw  nothing  but  trees,  trees, 
trees.  She  was  high  in  the  heavens  before  he  reached  the  glade. 
Then  indeed  his  troubles  vanished,  for  there  was  the  princess 
coming  dancing  towards  him,  in  a  dress  that  shone  like  gold,  and 
with  shoes  that  glimmered  through  the  grass  like  fire-flies.  She 
was  of  course  still  more  beautiful  than  before.  Like  an  embodied 
sunbeam  she  passed  him,  and  danced  away  into  the  distance. 

Before  she  returned  in  her  circle,  clouds  had  begun  to  gather 
about  the  moon.  The  wind  rose,  the  trees  moaned,  and  their 
lighter  branches  leaned  all  one  way  before  it.  The  prince 
feared  that  the  princess  would  go  in,  and  he  should  see  her  no 
more  that  night.  But  she  came  dancing  on  more  jubilant  than 
ever,  her  golden  dress  and  her  sunny  hair  streaming  out  upon 
the  blast,  waving  her  arms  towards  the  moon,  and  in  the  ex- 
uberance of  her  delight  ordering  the  clouds  away  from  off  her 
face.  The  prince  could  hardly  believe  she  was  not  a  creature  of 
the  elements,  after  all. 

By  the  time  she  had  completed  another  circle,  the  clouds 

[247] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

had  gathered  deep,  and  there  were  growlings  of  distant  thun- 
der. Just  as  she  passed  the  tree  where  he  stood,  a  flash  of 
lightning  blinded  him  for  a  moment,  and  when  he  saw  again,  to 
his  horror,  the  princess  lay  on  the  ground.  He  darted  to  her, 
thinking  she  had  been  struck;  but  when  she  heard  him  coming, 
she  was  on  her  feet  in  a  moment. 

"What  do  you  want?"  she  asked. 

"I  beg  your  pardon.     I  thought — the  lightning "  said 

the  prince,  hesitating. 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter,"  said  the  princess,  waving 
him  off  rather  haughtily. 

The  poor  prince  turned  and  walked  towards  the  wood. 

"Come  back,"  said  Daylight:    "I  like  you.    You  do  what 
you  are  told.    Are  you  good?" 

"Not  so  good  as  I  should  like  to  be,"  said  the  prince. 

"Then  go  and  grow  better,"  said  the  princess. 

Again  the  disappointed  prince  turned  and  went. 

"Come  back,"  said  the  princess. 

He  obeyed,  and  stood  before  her  waiting. 

"Can  you  tell  me  what  the  sun  is  like?"  she  asked. 

"No,"  he  answered.     "But  where's  the  good  of  asking 
what  you  know?" 

"But  I  don't  know,"  she  rejoined. 

"Why,  everybody  knows." 

"That's  the  very  thing:    I'm  not  everybody.     I've  never 
seen  the  sun." 

"Then  you  can't  know  what  it's  like  till  you  do  see  it." 

"I  think  you  must  be  a  prince,"  said  the  princess. 

"Do  I  look  like  one?"  said  the  prince. 

[248] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  can't  quite  say  that." 

"Then  why  do  you  think  so?" 

"Because  you  both  do  what  you  are  told  and  speak  the 
truth. — Is  the  sun  so  very  bright?" 

"As  bright  as  the  lightning." 

"But  it  doesn't  go  out  like  that,  does  it?" 

"Oh  no.  It  shines  like  the  moon,  rises  and  sets  like  the 
moon,  is  much  the  same  shape  as  the  moon,  only  so  bright  that 
you  can't  look  at  it  for  a  moment." 

"But  I  would  look  at  it,"  said  the  princess. 

"But  you  couldn't,"  said  the  prince. 

"But  I  could,"  said  the  princess. 

"Why  don't  you,  then?" 

"Because  I  can't." 

"Why  can't  you?" 

"  Because  I  can't  wake.    And  I  never  shall  wake  until " 

Here  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  turned  away,  and 
walked  in  the  slowest,  stateliest  manner  towards  the  house. 
The  prince  ventured  to  follow  her  at  a  little  distance,  but  she 
turned  and  made  a  repellent  gesture,  which,  like  a  true  gentle- 
man-prince, he  obeyed  at  once.  He  waited  a  long  time,  but 
as  she  did  not  come  near  him  again,  and  as  the  night  had  now 
cleared,  he  set  off  at  last  for  the  old  woman's  cottage. 

It  was  long  past  midnight  when  he  reached  it,  but,  to  his 
surprise,  the  old  woman  was  paring  potatoes  at  the  door. 
Fairies  are  fond  of  doing  odd  things.  Indeed,  however  they 
may  dissemble,  the  night  is  always  their  day.  And  so  it  is 
with  all  who  have  fairy  blood  in  them. 

"Why,  what  are  you  doing  there,  this  time  of  the  night, 

[249] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

mother?  "  said  the  prince;  for  that  was  the  kind  way  in  which 
any  young  man  in  his  country  would  address  a  woman  who 
was  much  older  than  himself. 

"Getting  your  supper  ready,  my  son,"  she  answered. 

"Oh!  I  don't  want  any  supper,"  said  the  prince. 

"Ah!  you've  seen  Daylight,"  said  she. 

"I've  seen  a  princess  who  never  saw  it,"  said  the  prince. 

"Do  you  like  her?"  asked  the  fairy. 

"Oh!  don't  I?"  said  the  prince.  "More  than  you  would 
believe,  mother." 

"A  fairy  can  believe  anything  that  ever  was  or  ever  could 
be,"  said  the  old  woman. 

"Then  are  you  a  fairy?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Yes,"  said  she. 

"Then  what  do  you  do  for  things  not  to  believe?"  asked 
the  prince. 

"There's  plenty  of  them — everything  that  never  was  nor 
ever  could  be." 

"Plenty,  I  grant  you,"  said  the  prince.  "But  do  you 
believe  there  could  be  a  princess  who  never  saw  the  daylight? 
Do  you  believe  that,  now?" 

This  the  prince  said,  not  that  he  doubted  the  princess,  but 
that  he  wanted  the  fairy  to  tell  him  more.  She  was  too  old  a 
fairy,  however,  to  be  caught  so  easily. 

"  Of  all  people,  fairies  must  not  tell  secrets.  Besides,  she's 
a  princess." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  a  secret.    I'm  a  prince." 

"I  know  that." 

"How  do  you  know  it?" 

[250] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"By  the  curl  of  the  third  eyelash  on  your  left  eyelid." 

"Which  corner  do  you  count  from?" 

"That's  a  secret," 

"Another  secret?  Well,  at  least,  if  I  am  a  prince,  there 
can  be  no  harm  in  telling  me  about  a  princess." 

"It's  just  princes  I  can't  tell." 

"  There  ain't  any  more  of  them — are  there?  "  said  the  prince. 

"What!  you  don't  think  you're  the  only  prince  in  the 
world,  do  you?" 

"Oh,  dear,  no!  not  at  all.  But  I  know  there's  one  too 
many  just  at  present,  except  the  princess " 

"Yes,  yes,  that's  it,"  said  the  fairy. 

"What's  it?"  asked  the  prince. 

But  he  could  get  nothing  more  out  of  the  fairy,  and  had 
to  go  to  bed  unanswered,  which  was  something  of  a  trial. 

Now  wicked  fairies  will  not  be  bound  by  the  laws  which  the 
good  fairies  obey,  and  this  always  seems  to  give  the  bad  the 
advantage  over  the  good,  for  they  use  means  to  gain  their 
ends  which  the  others  will  not.  But  it  is  all  of  no  consequence, 
for  what  they  do  never  succeeds;  nay,  in  the  end  it  brings 
about  the  very  thing  they  are  trying  to  prevent.  So  you  see 
that  somehow,  for  all  their  cleverness,  wicked  fairies  are  dread- 
fully stupid,  for,  although  from  the  beginning  of  the  world 
they  have  really  helped  instead  of  thwarting  the  good  fairies, 
not  one  of  them  is  a  bit  the  wiser  for  it.  She  will  try  the  bad 
thing  just  as  they  all  did  before  her;  and  succeeds  no  better 
of  course. 

The  prince  had  so  far  stolen  a  march  upon  the  swamp- 
fairy  that  she  did  not  know  he  was  in  the  neighborhood  until 

[251] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

after  he  had  seen  the  princess  those  three  times.  When  she 
knew  it,  she  consoled  herself  by  thinking  that  the  princess 
must  be  far  too  proud  and  too  modest  for  any  young  man  to 
venture  even  to  speak  to  her  before  he  had  seen  her  six  times 
at  least.  But  there  was  even  less  danger  than  the  wicked 
fairy  thought;  for,  however  much  the  princess  might  desire 
to  be  set  free,  she  was  dreadfully  afraid  of  the  wrong  prince. 
Now,  however,  the  fairy  was  going  to  do  all  she  could. 

She  so  contrived  it  by  her  deceitful  spells,  that  the  next 
night  the  prince  could  not  by  any  endeavour  find  his  way  to 
the  glade.  It  would  take  me  too  long  to  tell  her  tricks.  They 
would  be  amusing  to  us,  who  know  that  they  could  not  do 
any  harm,  but  they  were  something  other  than  amusing  to  the 
poor  prince.  He  wandered  about  the  forest  till  daylight,  and 
then  fell  fast  asleep.  The  same  thing  occurred  for  seven  fol- 
lowing days,  during  which  neither  could  he  find  the  good 
fairy's  cottage.  After  the  third  quarter  of  the  moon,  however, 
the  bad  fairy  thought  she  might  be  at  ease  about  the  affair  for 
a  fortnight  at  least,  for  there  was  no  chance  of  the  prince 
wishing  to  kiss  the  princess  during  that  period.  So  the  first 
day  of  the  fourth  quarter  he  did  find  the  cottage,  and  the 
next  day  he  found  the  glade.  For  nearly  another  week  he 
haunted  it.  But  the  princess  never  came.  I  have  little  doubt 
she  was  on  the  farther  edge  of  it  some  part  of  every  night,  but 
at  this  period  she  always  wore  black,  and,  there  being  little 
or  no  fight,  the  prince  never  saw  her.  Nor  would  he  have 
known  her  if  he  had  seen  her.  How  could  he  have  taken  the 
worn  decrepit  creature  she  was  now,  for  the  glorious  Princess 
Daylight? 

[252] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

At  last,  one  night  when  there  was  no  moon  at  all,  he  ven- 
tured near  the  house.  There  he  heard  voices  talking,  although 
it  was  past  midnight;  for  her  women  were  in  considerable 
uneasiness,  because  the  one  whose  turn  it  was  to  watch  her 
had  fallen  asleep,  and  had  not  seen  which  way  she  went,  and 
this  was  a  night  when  she  would  probably  wander  very  far, 
describing  a  circle  which  did  not  touch  the  open  glade  at  all, 
but  stretched  away  from  the  back  of  the  house,  deep  into  that 
side  of  the  forest — a  part  of  which  the  prince  knew  nothing. 
When  he  understood  from  what  they  said  that  she  had  dis- 
appeared, and  that  she  must  have  gone  somewhere  in  the  said 
direction,  he  plunged  at  once  into  the  wood  to  see  if  he  could 
find  her.  For  hours  he  roamed  with  nothing  to  guide  him  but 
the  vague  notion  of  a  circle  which  on  one  side  bordered  on  the 
house,  for  so  much  had  he  picked  up  from  the  talk  he  had 
overheard. 

It  was  getting  towards  the  dawn,  but  as  yet  there  was  no 
streak  of  light  in  the  sky,  when  he  came  to  a  great  birch-tree, 
and  sat  down  weary  at  the  foot  of  it.  While  he  sat — very 
miserable,  you  may  be  sure — full  of  fear  for  the  princess,  and 
wondering  how  her  attendants  could  take  it  so  quietly,  he  be- 
thought himself  that  it  would  not  be  a  bad  plan  to  light  a  fire, 
which,  if  she  were  anywhere  near,  would  attract  her.  This  he 
managed  with  a  tinder-box,  which  the  good  fairy  had  given 
him.  It  was  just  beginning  to  blaze  up,  when  he  heard  a 
moan,  which  seemed  to  come  from  the  other  side  of  the  tree. 
He  sprung  to  his  feet,  but  his  heart  throbbed  so  that  he  had 
to  lean  for  a  moment  against  the  tree  before  he  could  move. 
When  he  got  round,  there  lay  a  human  form  in  a  little  dark 

[253] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

heap  on  the  earth.  There  was  light  enough  from  his  fire  to 
show  that  it  was  not  the  princess.  He  lifted  it  in  his  arms, 
hardly  heavier  than  a  child,  and  carried  it  to  the  flame.  The 
countenance  was  that  of  an  old  woman,  but  it  had  a  fear- 
fully strange  look.  A  black  hood  concealed  her  hair,  and  her 
eyes  were  closed.  He  laid  her  down  as  comfortably  as  he 
could,  chafed  her  hands,  put  a  little  cordial  from  a  bottle, 
also  the  gift  of  the  fairy,  into  her  mouth;  took  off  his  coat 
and  wrapped  it  about  her,  and  in  short  did  the  best  he  could. 
In  a  little  while  she  opened  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him — so 
pitifully!  The  tears  rose  and  flowed  down  her  gray  wrinkled 
cheeks,  but  she  said  never  a  word.  She  closed  her  eyes  again, 
but  the  tears  kept  on  flowing,  and  her  whole  appearance  was 
so  utterly  pitiful  that  the  prince  was  very  near  crying  too.  He 
begged  her  to  tell  him  what  was  the  matter,  promising  to  do 
all  he  could  to  help  her;  but  still  she  did  not  speak.  He 
thought  she  was  dying,  and  took  her  in  his  arms  again  to  carry 
her  to  the  princess's  house,  where  he  thought  the  good- 
natured  cook  might  be  able  to  do  something  for  her.  When 
he  lifted  her,  the  tears  flowed  faster,  and  she  gave  such  a  sad 
moan  that  it  went  to  his  very  heart. 

"Mother,  mother!"  he  said "Poor  mother!"  and  kissed 

her  on  the  withered  lips. 

She  started;  and  what  eyes  they  were  that  opened  upon 
him!  But  he  did  not  see  them,  for  it  was  still  very  dark,  and 
he  had  enough  to  do  to  make  his  way  through  the  trees 
towards  the  house. 

Just  as  he  approached  the  door,  feeling  more  tired  than  he 
could  have  imagined  possible— she  was  such  a  little  thin  old 

[254] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

thing — she  began  to  move,  and  became  so  restless  that,  unable 
to  carry  her  a  moment  longer,  he  thought  to  lay  her  on  the 
grass.  But  she  stood  upright  on  her  feet.  Her  hood  had 
dropped,  and  her  hair  fell  about  her.  The  first  gleam  of  the 
morning  was  caught  on  her  face:  that  face  was  bright  as  the 
never-aging  Dawn,  and  her  eyes  were  lovely  as  the  sky  of 
darkest  blue.  The  prince  recoiled  in  over-mastering  wonder. 
It  was  Daylight  herself  whom  he  had  brought  from  the  forest ! 
He  fell  at  her  feet,  nor  dared  look  up  until  she  laid  her  hand 
upon  his  head.    He  rose  then. 

"You  kissed  me  when  I  was  an  old  woman:  there!  I  kiss 
you  when  I  am  a  young  princess,"  murmured  Daylight. — "Is 
that  the  sun  coming?" 


[255] 


nn 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

RUBY 

^HE  children  were  delighted  with  the  story,  and  made 
many  amusing  remarks  upon  it.  Mr.  Raymond  prom- 
ised to  search  his  brain  for  another,  and  when  he  had 
found  one  to  bring  it  to  them.  Diamond  having  taken  leave 
of  Nanny,  and  promised  to  go  and  see  her  again  soon,  went 
away  with  him. 

Now  Mr.  Raymond  had  been  turning  over  in  his  mind 
what  he  could  do  both  for  Diamond  and  for  Nanny.  He  had 
therefore  made  some  acquaintance  with  Diamond's  father,  and 
had  been  greatly  pleased  with  him.  But  he  had  come  to  the 
resolution,  before  he  did  anything  so  good  as  he  would  like  to  do 
for  them,  to  put  them  all  to  a  certain  test.  So  as  they  wTalked 
away  together,  he  began  to  talk  with  Diamond  as  follows: — 

"Nanny  must  leave  the  hospital  soon,  Diamond." 

"I'm  glad  of  that,  sir." 

"Why?    Don't  you  think  it's  a  nice  place?" 

"Yes,  very.  But  it's  better  to  be  well  and  doing  some- 
thing, you  know,  even  if  it's  not  quite  so  comfortable." 

"But  they  can't  keep  Nanny  so  long  as  they  would  like. 
They  can't  keep  her  till  she's  quite  strong.  There  are  always 
so  many  sick  children  they  want  to  take  in  and  make  better. 
And  the  question  is,  What  will  she  do  when  they  send  her  out 
again  r 

"That's  just  what  I  can't  tell,  though  I've  been  thinking 

[  256  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

of  it  over  and  over,  sir.  Her  crossing  was  taken  long  ago,  and 
I  couldn't  bear  to  see  Nanny  fighting  for  it,  especially  with 
such  a  poor  fellow  as  has  taken  it.    He's  quite  lame,  sir." 

"She  doesn't  look  much  like  fighting,  now,  does  she,  Dia- 
mond?" 

"No,  sir.  She  looks  too  like  an  angel.  Angels  don't 
fight — do  they,  sir?" 

"Not  to  get  things  for  themselves,  at  least,"  said  Mr. 
Raymond. 

"Besides,"  added  Diamond,  "I  don't  quite  see  that  she 
would  have  any  better  right  to  the  crossing  than  the  boy  who 
has  got  it.  Nobody  gave  it  to  her;  she  only  took  it.  And 
now  he  has  taken  it." 

"If  she  were  to  sweep  a  crossing — soon  at  least — after  the 
illness  she  has  had,  she  would  be  laid  up  again  the  very  first 
wet  day,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"And  there's  hardly  any  money  to  be  got  except  on  the 
wet  days,"  remarked  Diamond  reflectively.  "Is  there  nothing 
else  she  could  do,  sir?" 

"Not  without  being  taught,  I'm  afraid." 

"Well,  couldn't  somebody  teach  her  something?" 

"Couldn't  you  teach  her,  Diamond?" 

"I  don't  know  anything  myself,  sir.  I  could  teach  her  to 
dress  the  baby ;  but  nobody  would  give  her  anything  for  doing 
things  like  that:  they  are  so  easy.  There  wouldn't  be  much 
good  in  teaching  her  to  drive  a  cab,  for  where  would  she  get 
the  cab  to  drive?  There  ain't  fathers  and  old  Diamonds 
everywhere.  At  least  poor  Nanny  can't  find  any  of  them, 
I  doubt." 

[257] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Perhaps  if  she  were  taught  to  be  nice  and  clean,  and  only 
speak  gentle  words " 

"Mother  could  teach  her  that,"  interrupted  Diamond. 

"And  to  dress  babies,  and  feed  them,  and  take  care  of 
them,"  Mr.  Raymond  proceeded,  "she  might  get  a  place  as  a 
nurse  somewhere,  you  know.    People  do  give  money  for  that." 

"Then  I'll  ask  mother,"  said  Diamond. 

"But  you'll  have  to  give  her  her  food  then;  and  your 
father,  not  being  strong,  has  enough  to  do  already  without 
that." 

"But  here's  me,"  said  Diamond:  "I  help  him  out  with  it. 
When  he's  tired  of  driving,  up  I  get.  It  don't  make  any 
difference  to  old  Diamond.  I  don't  mean  he  likes  me  as  well 
as  my  father — of  course  he  can't,  you  know — nobody  could; 
but  he  does  his  duty  all  the  same.  It's  got  to  be  done,  you 
know,  sir;  and  Diamond's  a  good  horse — isn't  he,  sir?" 

"From  your  description  I  should  say  certainly;  but  I  have 
not  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance  myself." 

"Don't  you  think  he  will  go  to  heaven,  sir?" 

"That  I  don't  know  anything  about,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 
"I  confess  I  should  be  glad  to  think  so,"  he  added,  smiling 
thoughtfully. 

"I'm  sure  he'll  get  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,  any- 
how," said  Diamond  to  himself;  but  he  had  learned  to  be 
very  careful  of  saying  such  things  aloud. 

"Isn't  it  rather  too  much  for  him  to  go  in  the  cab  all  day 
and  every  day?"  resumed  Mr.  Raymond. 

"So  father  says,  when  he  feels  his  ribs  of  a  morning.  But 
then  he  says  the  old  horse  do  eat  well,  and  the  moment  he's 

[258] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

had  his  supper,  down  he  goes,  and  never  gets  up  till  he's 
called;  and,  for  the  legs  of  him,  father  says  that  makes  no 
end  of  a  differ.  Some  horses,  sir!  they  won't  lie  down  all  night 
long,  but  go  to  sleep  on  their  four  pins,  like  a  haystack,  father 
says.  /  think  it's  very  stupid  of  them,  and  so  does  old  Dia- 
mond. But  then  I  suppose  they  don't  know  better,  and  so 
they  can't  help  it.  We  mustn't  be  too  hard  upon  them, 
father  says." 

'Your  father  must  be  a  good  man,  Diamond." 

Diamond  looked  up  in  Mr.  Raymond's  face,  wondering 
what  he  could  mean. 

"I  said  your  father  must  be  a  good  man,  Diamond." 

"Of  course,"  said  Diamond.  "How  could  he  drive  a  cab 
if  he  wasn't?" 

"There  are  some  men  drive  cabs  who  are  not  very  good," 
objected  Mr.  Raymond. 

Diamond  remembered  the  drunken  cabman,  and  saw  that 
his  friend  was  right. 

"Ah!  but,"  he  returned,  "he  must  be,  you  know,  with 
such  a  horse  as  old  Diamond." 

"That  does  make  a  difference,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "But 
it  is  quite  enough  that  he  is  a  good  man,  without  our  trying 
to  account  for  it.  Now,  if  you  like,  I  will  give  you  a  proof 
that  I  think  him  a  good  man.  I  am  going  away  on  the  Con- 
tinent for  a  while — for  three  months,  I  believe — and  I  am  going 
to  let  my  house  to  a  gentleman  who  does  not  want  the  use  of 
my  brougham.  My  horse  is  nearly  as  old,  I  fancy,  as  your 
Diamond,  but  I  don't  want  to  part  with  him,  and  I  don't 
want  him  to  be  idle;  for  nobody,  as  you  say,  ought  to  be  idle; 

[  259] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

but  neither  do  I  want  him  to  be  worked  very  hard.  Now,  it 
has  come  into  my  head  that  perhaps  your  father  would  take 
charge  of  him,  and  work  him  under  certain  conditions." 

"My  father  will  do  what's  right,"  said  Diamond.  "I'm 
sure  of  that." 

"  Well,  so  I  think.  Will  you  ask  him  when  he  comes  home 
to  call  and  have  a  little  chat  with  me — to-day,  some  time?" 

"He  must  have  his  dinner  first,"  said  Diamond.  "No, 
he's  got  his  dinner  with  him  to-day.  It  must  be  after  he's 
had  his  tea." 

"Of  course,  of  course.  Any  time  will  do.  I  shall  be  at 
home  all  day." 

"Very  well,  sir.  I  will  tell  him.  You  may  be  sure  he  will 
come.  My  father  thinks  you  a  very  kind  gentleman,  and  I 
know  he  is  right,  for  I  know  your  very  own  self,  sir." 

Mr.  Raymond  smiled,  and  as  they  had  now  reached  his 
door,  they  parted,  and  Diamond  went  home.  As  soon  as  his 
father  entered  the  house,  Diamond  gave  him  Mr.  Raymond's 
message,  and  recounted  the  conversation  that  had  preceded  it. 
His  father  said  little,  but  took  thought-sauce  to  his  bread  and 
butter,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  his  meal,  rose,  saying: 

"I  will  go  to  your  friend  directly,  Diamond.  It  would  be 
a  grand  thing  to  get  a  little  more  money.    We  do  want  it." 

Diamond  accompanied  his  father  to  Mr.  Raymond's  door, 
and  there  left  him. 

He  was  shown  at  once  into  Mr.  Raymond's  study,  where 
he  gazed  with  some  wonder  at  the  multitude  of  books  on  the 
walls,  and  thought  what  a  learned  man  Mr.  Raymond  must  be. 

Presently  Mr.  Raymond  entered,  and  after  saying  much 
the  same  about  his  old  horse,  made  the  following  distinct  pro- 

[260] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

posal — one  not  over-advantageous  to  Diamond's  father,  but 
for  which  he  had  reasons — namely,  that  Joseph  should  have 
the  use  of  Mr.  Raymond's  horse  while  he  was  away,  on  con- 
dition that  he  never  worked  him  more  than  six  hours  a  day, 
and  fed  him  well,  and  that,  besides,  he  should  take  Nanny 
home  as  soon  as  she  was  able  to  leave  the  hospital,  and  pro- 
vide for  her  as  for  one  of  his  own  children,  neither  better  nor 
worse — so  long,  that  is,  as  he  had  the  horse. 

Diamond's  father  could  not  help  thinking  it  a  pretty  close 
bargain.  He  should  have  both  the  girl  and  the  horse  to  feed, 
and  only  six  hours'  work  out  of  the  horse. 

"It  will  save  your  own  horse,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"That  is  true,"  answered  Joseph;  "but  all  I  can  get  by 
my  own  horse  is  only  enough  to  keep  us,  and  if  I  save  him  and 
feed  your  horse  and  the  girl — don't  you  see,  sir?" 

"Well,  you  can  go  home  and  think  about  it,  and  let  me 
know  by  the  end  of  the  week.    I  am  in  no  hurry  before  then." 

So  Joseph  went  home  and  recounted  the  proposal  to  his 
wife,  adding  that  he  did  not  think  there  was  much  advantage 
to  be  got  out  of  it. 

"Not  much  that  way,  husband,"  said  Diamond's  mother, 
"but  there  would  be  an  advantage,  and  what  matter  who 
gets  it!" 

"I  don't  see  it,"  answered  her  husband.  "Mr.  Raymond 
is  a  gentleman  of  property,  and  I  don't  discover  any  much 
good  in  helping  him  to  save  a  little  more.  He  won't  easily 
get  one  to  make  such  a  bargain,  and  I  don't  mean  he  shall  get 
me.  It  would  be  a  loss  rather  than  a  gain — I  do  think — at 
least,  if  I  took  less  work  out  of  our  own  horse." 

"One  hour  would  make  a  difference  to  old  Diamond.    But 

[261] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

that's  not  the  main  point.  You  must  think  what  an  advantage 
it  would  be  to  the  poor  girl  that  hasn't  a  home  to  go  to!" 

"She  is  one  of  Diamond's  friends,"  thought  his  father. 

"I  could  be  kind  to  her,  you  know,"  the  mother  went  on, 
"and  teach  her  housework,  and  how  to  handle  a  baby;  and, 
besides,  she  would  help  me,  and  I  should  be  the  stronger  for 
it,  and  able  to  do  an  odd  bit  of  charing  now  and  then,  when 
I  got  the  chance." 

"I  won't  hear  of  that,"  said  her  husband.  "Have  the  girl 
by  all  means.  I'm  ashamed  I  did  not  think  of  both  sides  of 
the  thing  at  once.  I  wonder  if  the  horse  is  a  great  eater.  To 
be  sure,  if  I  gave  Diamond  two  hours'  additional  rest,  it  would 
be  all  the  better  for  the  old  bones  of  him,  and  there  would  be 
four  hours  extra  out  of  the  other  horse.  That  would  give 
Diamond  something  to  do  every  day.  He  could  drive  old 
Diamond  after  dinner,  and  I  could  take  the  other  horse  out 
for  six  hours  after  tea,  or  in  the  morning,  as  I  found  best.  It 
might  pay  for  the  keep  of  both  of  them, — that  is,  if  I  had  good 
luck.  I  should  like  to  oblige  Mr.  Raymond,  though  he  be 
rather  hard,  for  he  has  been  very  kind  to  our  Diamond,  wife. 
Hasn't  he  now?" 

"He  has  indeed,  Joseph,"  said  his  wife,  and  there  the  con- 
versation ended. 

Diamond's  father  went  the  very  next  day  to  Mr.  Raymond, 
and  accepted  his  proposal;  so  that  the  week  after,  having  got 
another  stall  in  the  same  stable,  he  had  two  horses  instead  of 
one.  Oddly  enough,  the  name  of  the  new  horse  was  Ruby, 
for  he  was  a  very  red  chestnut.  Diamond's  name  came  from 
a  white  lozenge  on  his  forehead.  Young  Diamond  said  they 
were  rich  now,  with  such  a  big  diamond  and  such  a  big  ruby. 

[262] 


CHAPTER  XXX 
NANNY'S  DREAM 

NANNY  was  not  fit  to  be  moved  for  some  time  yet, 
and  Diamond  went  to  see  her  as  often  as  he  could. 
But  being  more  regularly  engaged  now,  seeing  he  went 
out  every  day  for  a  few  hours  with  old  Diamond,  and  had  his 
baby  to  mind,  and  one  of  the  horses  to  attend  to,  he  could 
not  go  so  often  as  he  would  have  liked. 

One  evening,  as  he  sat  by  her  bedside,  she  said  to  him : 
"I've  had  such  a  beautiful  dream,  Diamond!     I  should 
like  to  tell  it  you." 

"Oh!  do,"  said  Diamond;   "I  am  so  fond  of  dreams!" 
"She  must  have  been  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

"It  was  a  very  foolish  dream,  you  know.  But  somehow 
it  was  so  pleasant!  What  a  good  thing  it  is  that  you  believe 
the  dream  all  the  time  you  are  in  it!" 

My  readers  must  not  suppose  that  poor  Nanny  was  able 
to  say  what  she  meant  so  well  as  I  put  it  down  here.  She  had 
never  been  to  school,  and  had  heard  very  little  else  than 
vulgar  speech  until  she  came  to  the  hospital.  But  I  have  been 
to  school,  and  although  that  could  never  make  me  able  to 
dream  so  well  as  Nanny,  it  has  made  me  able  to  tell  her 
dream  better  than  she  could  herself.  And  I  am  the  more 
desirous  of  doing  this  for  her  that  I  have  already  done  the 

[263] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

best  I  could  for  Diamond's  dream,  and  it  would  be  a  shame  to 
give  the  boy  all  the  advantage. 

"I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  it,"  said  Nanny.  "The 
day  before  yesterday,  a  lady  came  to  see  us — a  very  beautiful 
lady,  and  very  beautifully  dressed.  I  heard  the  matron  say 
to  her  that  it  was  very  kind  of  her  to  come  in  blue  and  gold; 
and  she  answered  that  she  knew  we  didn't  like  dull  colors. 
She  had  such  a  lovely  shawl  on,  just  like  redness  dipped  in 
milk,  and  all  worked  over  with  flowers  of  the  same  color. 
It  didn't  shine  much;  it  was  silk,  but  it  kept  in  the  shine. 
When  she  came  to  my  bedside,  she  sat  down,  just  where  you 
are  sitting,  Diamond,  and  laid  her  hand  on  the  counterpane. 
I  was  sitting  up,  with  my  table  before  me,  ready  for  my  tea. 
Her  hand  looked  so  pretty  in  its  blue  glove,  that  I  was  tempted 
to  stroke  it.  I  thought  she  wouldn't  be  angry,  for  everybody 
that  comes  to  the  hospital  is  kind.  It's  only  in  the  streets 
they  ain't  kind.  But  she  drew  her  hand  away,  and  I  almost 
cried,  for  I  thought  I  had  been  rude.  Instead  of  that,  however, 
it  was  only  that  she  didn't  like  giving  me  her  glove  to  stroke, 
for  she  drew  it  off,  and  then  laid  her  hand  where  it  was  before. 
I  wasn't  sure,  but  I  ventured  to  put  out  my  ugly  hand." 

"Your  hand  ain't  ugly,  Nanny,"  said  Diamond;  but 
Nanny  went  on — 

"And  I  stroked  it  again,  and  then  she  stroked  mine, — 
think  of  that!  And  there  was  a  ring  on  her  finger,  and  I 
looked  down  to  see  what  it  was  like.  And  she  drew  it  off,  and 
put  it  upon  one  of  my  fingers.  It  was  a  red  stone,  and  she 
told  me  they  called  it  a  ruby." 

"Oh,  that  is  funny!"  said  Diamond.     "Our  new  horse  is 

[264] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

called  Ruby.     We've  got  another  horse — a  red  one — such  a 
beauty!" 

But  Nanny  went  on  with  her  story. 

"I  looked  at  the  ruby  all  the  time  the  lady  was  talking  to 
me, — it  was  so  beautiful!  And  as  she  talked  I  kept  seeing 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  stone.  At  last  she  rose  to  go 
away,  and  I  began  to  pull  the  ring  off  my  finger;  and  what 
do  you  think  she  said? — 'Wear  it  all  night,  if  you  like.  Only 
you  must  take  care  of  it.  I  can't  give  it  you,  for  some  one 
gave  it  to  me;  but  you  may  keep  it  till  to-morrow.'  Wasn't 
it  kind  of  her?  I  could  hardly  take  my  tea,  I  was  so  delighted 
to  hear  it;  and  I  do  think  it  was  the  ring  that  set  me  dream- 
ing; for,  after  I  had  taken  my  tea,  I  leaned  back,  half  lying 
and  half  sitting,  and  looked  at  the  ring  on  my  finger.  By 
degrees  I  began  to  dream.  The  ring  grew  larger  and  larger, 
until  at  last  I  found  that  I  was  not  looking  at  a  red  stone,  but 
at  a  red  sunset,  which  shone  in  at  the  end  of  a  long  street  near 
where  Grannie  lives.  I  was  dressed  in  rags  as  I  used  to  be, 
and  I  had  great  holes  in  my  shoes,  at  which  the  nasty  mud 
came  through  to  my  feet.  I  didn't  use  to  mind  it  before,  but 
now  I  thought  it  horrid.  And  there  was  the  great  red  sunset, 
with  streaks  of  green  and  gold  between,  standing  looking  at 
me.  Why  couldn't  I  live  in  the  sunset  instead  of  in  that  dirt? 
Why  was  it  so  far  away  always?  Why  did  it  never  come  into 
our  wretched  street?  It  faded  away,  as  the  sunsets  always 
do,  and  at  last  went  out  altogether.  Then  a  cold  wind  began 
to  blow,  and  flutter  all  my  rags  about " 

"That  was  North  Wind  herself,"  said  Diamond. 

"Eh?"  said  Nanny,  and  went  on  with  her  story. 

[  265  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  turned  my  back  to  it,  and  wandered  away.  I  did  not 
know  where  I  was  going,  only  it  was  warmer  to  go  that  way. 
I  don't  think  it  was  a  north  wind,  for  I  found  myself  some- 
where in  the  west  end  at  last.  But  it  doesn't  matter  in  a 
dream  which  wind  it  was." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  Diamond.  "I  believe  North 
Wind  can  get  into  our  dreams — yes,  and  blow  in  them.  Some- 
times she  has  blown  me  out  of  a  dream  altogether." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Diamond,"  said  Nanny. 

"Never  mind,"  answered  Diamond.  "Two  people  can't 
always  understand  each  other.  They'd  both  be  at  the  back  of 
the  north  wind  directly,  and  what  would  become  of  the  other 
places  without  them?" 

"You  do  talk  so  oddly!"  said  Nanny.  "I  sometimes 
think  they  must  have  been  right  about  you." 

"What  did  they  say  about  me?"  asked  Diamond. 

"They  called  you  God's  baby." 

" How  kind  of  them !    But  I  knew  that." 

"Did  you  know  what  it  meant,  though?  It  meant  that 
you  were  not  right  in  the  head." 

"I  feel  all  right,"  said  Diamond,  putting  both  hands  to  his 
head,  as  if  it  had  been  a  globe  he  could  take  off  and  set  on  again. 

"Well,  as  long  as  you  are  pleased  I  am  pleased,"  said 
Nanny. 

"Thank  you,  Nanny.  Do  go  on  with  your  story.  I  think 
I  like  dreams  even  better  than  fairy  tales.  But  they  must  be 
nice  ones,  like  yours,  you  know." 

"Well,  I  went  on,  keeping  my  back  to  the  wind,  until  I 
came  to  a  fine  street  on  the  top  of  a  hill.    How  it  happened  I 

[2Q6] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

don't  know,  but  the  front  door  of  one  of  the  houses  was  open, 
and  not  only  the  front  door,  but  the  back  door  as  well,  so 
that  I  could  see  right  through  the  house — and  what  do  you 
think  I  saw?  A  garden  place  with  green  grass,  and  the  moon 
shining  upon  it!  Think  of  that!  There  was  no  moon  in  the 
street,  but  through  the  house  there  was  the  moon.  I  looked 
and  there  was  nobody  near;  I  would  not  do  any  harm,  and 
the  grass  was  so  much  nicer  than  the  mud!  But  I  couldn't 
think  of  going  on  the  grass  with  such  dirty  shoes:  I  kicked 
them  off  in  the  gutter,  and  ran  in  on  my  bare  feet,  up  the  steps, 
and  through  the  house,  and  on  to  the  grass;  and  the  moment 
I  came  into  the  moonlight,  I  began  to  feel  better." 

"That's  why  North  Wind  blew  you  there,"  said  Dia- 
mond. 

"It  came  of  Mr.  Raymond's  story  about  the  Princess 
Daylight,"  returned  Nanny.  "Well,  I  lay  down  upon  the 
grass  in  the  moonlight  without  thinking  how  I  was  to  get  out 
again.  Somehow  the  moon  suited  me  exactly.  There  was  not 
a  breath  of  the  north  wind  you  talk  about;  it  was  quite  gone." 

"You  didn't  want  her  any  more,  just  then.  She  never 
goes  where  she's  not  wanted,"  said  Diamond.  "But  she  blew 
you  into  the  moonlight,  anyhow." 

"Well,  we  won't  dispute  about  it,"  said  Nanny:  "you've 
got  a  tile  loose,  you  know." 

"Suppose  I  have,"  returned  Diamond,  "don't  you  see  it 
may  let  in  the  moonlight,  or  the  sunlight  for  that  matter?" 

"Perhaps  yes,  perhaps  no,"  said  Nanny. 

"And  you've  got  your  dreams,  too,  Nanny." 

"Yes,  but  I  know  they're  dreams." 

[267] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"So  do  I.  But  I  know  besides  they  are  something  more 
as  well." 

" Oh !  do  you? "  rejoined  Nanny.    " I  don't." 

"All  right,"  said  Diamond.    "Perhaps  you  will  some  day." 

"Perhaps  I  won't,"  said  Nanny. 

Diamond  held  his  peace,  and  Nanny  resumed  her  story. 

"I  lay  a  long  time,  and  the  moonlight  got  in  at  every  tear 
in  my  clothes,  and  made  me  feel  so  happy " 

"There,  I  tell  you!"  said  Diamond. 

"What  do  you  tell  me?"  returned  Nanny. 

"North  Wind " 

"It  was  the  moonlight,  I  tell  you,"  persisted  Nanny,  and 
again  Diamond  held  his  peace. 

"All  at  once  I  felt  that  the  moon  was  not  shining  so  strong. 
I  looked  up,  and  there  was  a  cloud,  all  crapey  and  fluffy, 
trying  to  drown  the  beautiful  creature.  But  the  moon  was  so 
round,  just  like  a  whole  plate,  that  the  cloud  couldn't  stick  to 
her;  she  shook  it  off,  and  said  there,  and  shone  out  clearer  and 
brighter  than  ever.  But  up  came  a  thicker  cloud, — and  'You 
shan't'  said  the  moon;  and  'I  will'  said  the  cloud, — but  it 
couldn't:  out  shone  the  moon,  quite  laughing  at  its  impu- 
dence. I  knew  her  ways,  for  I've  always  been  used  to  watch 
her.  She's  the  only  thing  worth  looking  at  in  our  street  at 
night." 

"Don't  call  it  your  street,"  said  Diamond.  "You're  not 
going  back  to  it.    You're  coming  to  us,  you  know." 

"That's  too  good  to  be  true,"  said  Nanny. 

"There  are  very  few  things  good  enough  to  be  true,"  said 
Diamond;   "but  I  hope  this  is.    Too  good  to  be  true  it  can't 

[  268  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

be.  Isn't  true  good?  and  isn't  good  good?  And  how,  then, 
can  anything  be  too  good  to  be  true?  That's  like  old  Sal — to 
say  that." 

"  Don't  abuse  Grannie,  Diamond.  She's  a  horrid  old  thing, 
she  and  her  gin  bottle;  but  she'll  repent  some  day,  and  then 
you'll  be  glad  not  to  have  said  anything  against  her." 

"Why?"  said  Diamond. 

"Because  you'll  be  sorry  for  her." 

"I  am  sorry  for  her  now." 

"Very  well.  That's  right.  She'll  be  sorry  too.  And 
there'll  be  an  end  of  it." 

"All  right.    You  come  to  us,"  said  Diamond. 

"Where  was  I?"  said  Nanny. 

"Telling  me  how  the  moon  served  the  clouds." 

"Yes.  But  it  wouldn't  do,  all  of  it.  Up  came  the  clouds 
and  the  clouds,  and  they  came  faster  and  faster,  until  the 
moon  was  covered  up.  You  couldn't  expect  her  to  throw  off 
a  hundred  of  them  at  once — could  you?" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Diamond. 

"So  it  grew  very  dark;  and  a  dog  began  to  yelp  in  the 
house.  I  looked  and  saw  that  the  door  to  the  garden  was  shut. 
Presently  it  was  opened — not  to  let  me  out,  but  to  let  the  dog 
in — yelping  and  bounding.  I  thought  if  he  caught  sight  of 
me,  I  was  in  for  a  biting  first,  and  the  police  after.  So  I 
jumped  up,  and  ran  for  a  little  summer-house  in  the  corner  of 
the  garden.  The  dog  came  after  me,  but  I  shut  the  door  in 
his  face.     It  was  well  it  had  a  door — wasn't  it?" 

"You  dreamed  of  the  door  because  you  wanted  it,"  said 
Diamond. 

[269] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No,  I  didn't;  it  came  of  itself.  It  was  there,  in  the  true 
dream." 

"There — I've  caught  you!"  said  Diamond.  "I  knew  you 
believed  in  the  dream  as  much  as  I  do." 

"Oh,  well,  if  you  will  lay  traps  for  a  body!"  said  Nanny. 
"Anyhow,  I  was  safe  inside  the  summer-house.  And  what  do 
you  think? — There  was  the  moon  beginning  to  shine  again — 
but  only  through  one  of  the  panes — and  that  one  was  just  the 
color  of  the  ruby.    Wasn't  it  funny?" 

"No,  not  a  bit  funny,"  said  Diamond. 

"If  you  will  be  contrary!"  said  Nanny. 

"No,  no,"  said  Diamond;  "I  only  meant  that  was  the 
very  pane  I  should  have  expected  her  to  shine  through." 

"Oh,  very  well!"  returned  Nanny. 

What  Diamond  meant,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say.  He  had 
curious  notions  about  things. 

"And  now,"  said  Nanny,  "I  didn't  know  what  to  do,  for 
the  dog  kept  barking  at  the  door,  and  I  couldn't  get  out.  But 
the  moon  was  so  beautiful  that  I  couldn't  keep  from  looking 
at  it  through  the  red  pane.  And  as  I  looked  it  got  larger  and 
larger  till  it  filled  the  whole  pane  and  outgrew  it,  so  that  I 
could  see  it  through  the  other  panes;  and  it  grew  till  it  filled 
them  too  and  the  whole  window,  so  that  the  summer-house 
was  nearly  as  bright  as  day. 

"The  dog  stopped  barking,  and  I  heard  a  gentle  tap- 
ping at  the  door,  like  the  wind  blowing  a  little  branch 
against  it." 

"Just  like  her,"  said  Diamond,  who  thought  everything 
strange  and  beautiful  must  be  done  by  North  Wind. 

[270] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"So  I  turned  from  the  window  and  opened  the  door;  and 
what  do  you  think  I  saw?" 

"A  beautiful  lady,"  said  Diamond. 

"No — the  moon  itself,  as  big  as  a  little  house,  and  as 
round  as  a  ball,  shining  like  yellow  silver.  It  stood  on  the 
grass — down  on  the  very  grass :  I  could  see  nothing  else  for 
the  brightness  of  it.  And  as  I  stared  and  wondered,  a  door 
opened  in  the  side  of  it,  near  the  ground,  and  a  curious  little 
old  man,  with  a  crooked  thing  over  his  shoulder,  looked  out, 
and  said:  'Come  along,  Nanny;  my  lady  wants  you.  We're 
come  to  fetch  you.'  I  wasn't  a  bit  frightened.  I  went  up  to 
the  beautiful  bright  thing,  and  the  old  man  held  down  his 
hand,  and  I  took  hold  of  it,  and  gave  a  jump,  and  he  gave  me 
a  lift,  and  I  was  inside  the  moon.  And  what  do  you  think  it 
was  like?  It  was  such  a  pretty  little  house,  with  blue  windows 
and  white  curtains!  At  one  of  the  windows  sat  a  beautiful 
lady,  with  her  head  leaning  on  her  hand,  looking  out.  She 
seemed  rather  sad,  and  I  was  sorry  for  her,  and  stood  staring 
at  her. 

:'  'You  didn't  think  I  had  such  a  beautiful  mistress  as 
that!'  said  the  queer  little  man.  'No,  indeed!'  I  answered: 
'who  would  have  thought  it?'  'Ah!  who  indeed?  But  you 
see  you  don't  know  everything.'  The  little  man  closed  the 
door,  and  began  to  pull  at  a  rope  which  hung  behind  it  with  a 
weight  at  the  end.  After  he  had  pulled  a  while,  he  said — 
'There,  that  will  do;  we're  all  right  now.'  Then  he  took  me 
by  the  hand  and  opened  a  little  trap  in  the  floor,  and  led  me 
down  two  or  three  steps,  and  I  saw  like  a  great  hole  below  me. 
'Don't  be  frightened,'  said  the  little  man.     'It's  not  a  hole. 

[271] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

It's  only  a  window.  Put  your  face  down  and  look  through.' 
I  did  as  he  told  me,  and  there  was  the  garden  and  the  summer- 
house,  far  away,  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  moonlight. 
'There!'  said  the  little  man;  'we've  brought  you  off!  Do  you 
see  the  little  dog  barking  at  us  down  there  in  the  garden?' 
I  told  him  I  couldn't  see  anything  so  far.  '  Can  you  see  any- 
thing so  small  and  so  far  off?'  I  said.  'Bless  you,  child!'  said 
the  little  man;  'I  could  pick  up  a  needle  out  of  the  grass  if 
I  had  only  a  long  enough  arm.  There's  one  lying  by  the  door 
of  the  summer-house  now.'  I  looked  at  his  eyes.  They  were 
very  small,  but  so  bright  that  I  think  he  saw  by  the  light  that 
went  out  of  them.  Then  he  took  me  up,  and  up  again  by  a 
little  stair  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  through  another  trap- 
door, and  there  was  one  great  round  window  above  us,  and 
I  saw  the  blue  sky  and  the  clouds,  and  such  lots  of  stars,  all 
so  big,  and  shining  as  hard  as  ever  they  could!" 

"The  little  girl-angels  had  been  polishing  them,"  said  Dia- 
mond. 

"What  nonsense  you  do  talk!"  said  Nanny. 

"But  my  nonsense  is  just  as  good  as  yours,  Nanny.  When 
you  have  done,  I'll  tell  you  my  dream.  The  stars  are  in  it — 
not  the  moon,  though.  She  was  away  somewhere.  Perhaps 
she  was  gone  to  fetch  you  then.  I  don't  think  that,  though, 
for  my  dream  was  longer  ago  than  yours.  She  might  have 
been  to  fetch  some  one  else,  though;  for  we  can't  fancy  it's 
only  us  that  get  such  fine  things  done  for  them.  But  do  tell 
me  what  came  next." 

Perhaps  one  of  my  child-readers  may  remember  whether 
the  moon  came  down  to  fetch  him  or  her  the  same  night  that 

[272] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Diamond  had  his  dream.  I  cannot  tell,  of  course.  I  know 
she  did  not  come  to  fetch  me,  though  I  did  think  I  could  make 
her  follow  me  when  I  was  a  boy — not  a  very  tiny  one  either. 

"The  little  man  took  me  all  round  the  house,  and  made 
me  look  out  of  every  window.  Oh,  it  was  beautiful!  There 
we  were,  all  up  in  the  air,  in  such  a  nice  clean  little  house! 
'Your  work  will  be  to  keep  the  windows  bright/  said  the 
little  man.  'You  won't  find  it  very  difficult,  for  there  ain't 
much  dust  up  here.  Only,  the  frost  settles  on  them  some- 
times, and  the  drops  of  rain  leave  marks  on  them.'  'I  can 
easily  clean  them  inside,'  I  said;  'but  how  am  I  to  get  the  frost 
and  the  rain  off  the  outside  of  them?'  'Oh!'  he  said,  'it's 
quite  easy.  There  are  ladders  all  about.  You've  only  got  to 
go  out  at  the  door,  and  climb  about.  There  are  a  great  many 
windows  you  haven't  seen  yet,  and  some  of  them  look  into 
places  you  don't  know  anything  about.  I  used  to  clean  them 
myself,  but  I'm  getting  rather  old,  you  see.  Ain't  I  now?' 
'I  can't  tell,'  I  answered.  'You  see  I  never  saw  you  when 
you  were  younger.'  'Never  saw  the  man  in  the  moon?'  said 
he.  'Not  very  near.'  I  answered — 'not  to  tell  how  young  or 
how  old  he  looked.  I  have  seen  the  bundle  of  sticks  on  his 
back.'  For  Jim  had  pointed  that  out  to  me.  Jim  was  very 
fond  of  looking  at  the  man  in  the  moon.  Poor  Jim !  I  wonder 
he  hasn't  been  to  see  me.    I'm  afraid  he's  ill  too." 

"I'll  try  to  find  out,"  said  Diamond,  "and  let  you  know." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Nanny.  "You  and  Jim  ought  to  be 
friends." 

"But  what  did  the  man  in  the  moon  say,  when  you  told 
him  you  had  seen  him  with  the  bundle  of  sticks  on  his  back?" 

[273] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"He  laughed.  But  I  thought  he  looked  offended  too.  His 
little  nose  turned  up  sharper,  and  he  drew  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  down  from  the  tips  of  his  ears  into  his  neck.  But  he 
didn't  look  cross,  you  know." 

"Didn't  he  say  anything?" 

"Oh,  yes!  He  said:  'That's  all  nonsense.  What  you  saw 
was  my  bundle  of  dusters.  I  was  going  to  clean  the  windows. 
It  takes  a  good  many,  you  know.  Really,  what  they  do  say 
of  their  superiors  down  there!'  'It's  only  because  they  don't 
know  better,'  I  ventured  to  say.  'Of  course,  of  course,'  said 
the  little  man.  'Nobody  ever  does  know  better.  Well,  I  for- 
give them,  and  that  sets  it  all  right,  I  hope.'  'It's  very  good 
of  you,'  I  said.  'No!'  said  he,  'it's  not  in  the  least  good  of 
me.  I  couldn't  be  comfortable  otherwise.'  After  this  he  said 
nothing  for  a  while,  and  I  laid  myself  on  the  floor  of  his  garret, 
and  stared  up  and  around  at  the  great  blue  beautifulness.  I 
had  forgotten  him  almost,  when  at  last  he  said:  'Ain't  you 
done  yet?'  'Done  what?'  I  asked.  'Done  saying  your  pray- 
ers,'says  he.  'I  wasn't  saying  my  prayers,' I  answered.  'Oh 
yes,  you  were,'  said  he,  'though  you  didn't  know  it!  And 
now  I  must  show  you  something  else.' 

"He  took  my  hand  and  led  me  down  the  stair  again,  and 
through  a  narrow  passage,  and  through  another,  and  another, 
and  another.  I  don't  know  how  there  could  be  room  for  so 
many  passages  in  such  a  little  house.  The  heart  of  it  must  be 
ever  so  much  farther  from  the  sides  than  they  are  from  each 
other.  How  could  it  have  an  inside  that  was  so  independent 
of  its  outside?    There's  the  point.     It  was  funny — wasn't  it. 

Diamond?" 

[274] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No,"  said  Diamond.  He  was  going  to  say  that  that  was 
very  much  the  sort  of  thing  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind; 
but  he  checked  himself  and  only  added,  "All  right.  I  don't 
see  it.  I  don't  see  why  the  inside  should  depend  on  the  out- 
side. It  ain't  so  with  the  crabs.  They  creep  out  of  their 
outsides  and  make  new  ones.    Mr.  Raymond  told  me  so." 

"I  don't  see  what  that  has  got  to  do  with  it,"  said  Nanny, 

"Then  go  on  with  your  story,  please,"  said  Diamond, 
"What  did  you  come  to,  after  going  through  all  those  winding 
passages  into  the  heart  of  the  moon?" 

"I  didn't  say  they  were  winding  passages.  I  said  they 
were  long  and  narrow.  They  didn't  wind.  They  went  by 
corners." 

"That's  worth  knowing,"  remarked  Diamond.  "For  who 
knows  how  soon  he  may  have  to  go  there?  But  the  main 
thing  is,  what  did  you  come  to  at  last?" 

"  We  came  to  a  small  box  against  the  wall  of  a  tiny  room. 
The  little  man  told  me  to  put  my  ear  against  it.  I  did  so,  and 
heard  a  noise  something  like  the  purring  of  a  cat,  only  not  so 
loud,  and  much  sweeter.  'What  is  it?'  I  asked.  'Don't  you 
know  the  sound?'  returned  the  little  man.  'No,'  I  answered. 
'Don't  you  know  the  sound  of  bees?'  he  said.  I  had  never 
heard  bees,  and  could  not  know  the  sound  of  them.  'Those 
are  my  lady's  bees, '  he  went  on.  I  had  heard  that  bees  gather 
honey  from  the  flowers.  ' But  where  are  the  flowers  for  them? ' 
I  asked.  'My  lady's  bees  gather  their  honey  from  the  sun 
and  the  stars,'  said  the  little  man.  'Do  let  me  see  them,'  I 
said.     'No.     I  daren't  do  that,'  he  answered.     'I  have  no 

business  with  them.    I  don't  understand  them.    Besides,  they 

[  275  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

are  so  bright  that  if  one  were  to  fly  into  your  eye,  it  would 
blind  you  altogether.'  ' Then  you  have  seen  them ? '  'Oh,  yes ! 
Once  or  twice,  I  think.  But  I  don't  quite  know :  they  are  so 
very  bright — like  buttons  of  lightning.  Now  I've  showed 
you  all  I  can  to-night,  and  we'll  go  back  to  the  room.'  I  fol- 
lowed him,  and  he  made  me  sit  down  under  a  lamp  that  hung 
from  the  roof,  and  gave  me  some  bread  and  honey. 

"The  lady  had  never  moved.  She  sat  with  her  forehead 
leaning  on  her  hand,  gazing  out  of  the  little  window,  hung 
like  the  rest  with  white  cloudy  curtains.  From  where  I  was 
sitting  I  looked  out  of  it  too,  but  I  could  see  nothing.  Her 
face  was  very  beautiful,  and  very  white,  and  very  still,  and 
her  hand  was  as  white  as  the  forehead  that  leaned  on  it.  I  did 
not  see  her  whole  face — only  the  side  of  it,  for  she  never  moved 
to  turn  it  full  upon  me,  or  even  to  look  at  me. 

"How  long  I  sat  after  I  had  eaten  my  bread  and  honey,  I 
don't  know.  The  little  man  was  busy  about  the  room,  pulling 
a  string  here,  and  a  string  there,  but  chiefly  the  string  at  the 
back  of  the  door.  I  was  thinking  with  some  uneasiness  that 
he  would  soon  be  wanting  me  to  go  out  and  clean  the  windows, 
and  I  didn't  fancy  the  job.  At  last  he  came  up  to  me  with  a 
great  armful  of  dusters.  'It's  time  you  set  about  the  win- 
dows,' he  said;  'for  there's  rain  coming,  and  if  they're  quite 
clean  before,  then  the  rain  can't  spoil  them.'  I  got  up  at 
once.  'You  needn't  be  afraid,'  he  said.  'You  won't  tumble 
off.  Only  you  must  be  careful.  Always  hold  on  with  one 
hand  while  you  rub  with  the  other.'  As  he  spoke,  he  opened 
the  door.  I  started  back  in  a  terrible  fright,  for  there  was 
nothing  but  blue  air  to  be  seen  under  me,  like  a  great  water 

[276] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

without  a  bottom  at  all.  But  what  must  be  must,  and  to  live 
up  here  was  so  much  nicer  than  down  in  the  mud  with  holes 
in  my  shoes,  that  I  never  thought  of  not  doing  as  I  was  told. 
The  little  man  showed  me  how  and  where  to  lay  hold  while  I 
put  my  foot  round  the  edge  of  the  door  on  to  the  first  round  of 
a  ladder.  'Once  you're  up,'  he  said,  'you'll  see  how  you  have 
to  go  well  enough.'  I  did  as  he  told  me,  and  crept  out  very 
carefully.  Then  the  little  man  handed  me  the  bundle  of  dusters, 
saying,  '  I  always  carry  them  on  my  reaping  hook,  but  I  don't 
think  you  could  manage  it  properly.  You  shall  have  it  if 
you  like.'  I  wouldn't  take  it,  however,  for  it  looked  dangerous. 
"I  did  the  best  I  could  with  the  dusters,  and  crawled  up 
to  the  top  of  the  moon.  But  what  a  grand  sight  it  was !  The 
stars  were  all  over  my  head,  so  bright  and  so  near  that  I  could 
almost  have  laid  hold  of  them.  The  round  ball  to  which  I 
clung  went  bobbing  and  floating  away  through  the  dark  blue 
above  and  below  and  on  every  side.  It  was  so  beautiful  that 
all  fear  left  me,  and  I  set  to  work  diligently.  I  cleaned  window 
after  window.  At  length  I  came  to  a  very  little  one,  in  at 
which  I  peeped.  There  was  the  room  with  the  box  of  bees 
in  it!  I  laid  my  ear  to  the  window,  and  heard  the  musical 
hum  quite  distinctly.  A  great  longing  to  see  them  came  upon 
me,  and  I  opened  the  window  and  crept  in.  The  little  box 
had  a  door  like  a  closet.  I  opened  it — the  tiniest  crack — 
when  out  came  the  light  with  such  a  sting  that  I  closed  it 
again  in  terror — not,  however,  before  three  bees  had  shot 
out  into  the  room,  where  they  darted  about  like  flashes  of 
lightning.  Terribly  frightened,  I  tried  to  get  out  of  the  win- 
dow again,  but  I  could  not:   there  was  no  way  to  the  outside 

[  277  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

of  the  moon  but  through  the  door;  and  that  was  in  the  room 
where  the  lady  sat.  No  sooner  had  I  reached  the  room,  than 
the  three  bees,  which  had  followed  me,  flew  at  once  to  the  lady, 
and  settled  upon  her  hair.  Then  first  I  saw  her  move.  She 
started,  put  up  her  hand,  and  caught  them;  then  rose  and, 
having  held  them  into  the  flame  of  the  lamp  one  after  the 
other,  turned  to  me.  Her  face  was  not  so  sad  now  as  stern. 
It  frightened  me  much.  *  Nanny,  you  have  got  me  into 
trouble,'  she  said.  'You  have  been  letting  out  my  bees,  which 
it  is  all  I  can  do  to  manage.  You  have  forced  me  to  burn 
them.  It  is  a  great  loss,  and  there  will  be  a  storm.'  As  she 
spoke,  the  clouds  had  gathered  all  about  us.  I  could  see  them 
come  crowding  up  white  about  the  windows.  'I  am  sorry  to 
find,'  said  the  lady,  'that  you  are  not  to  be  trusted.  You 
must  go  home  again — you  won't  do  for  us.'  Then  came  a 
great  clap  of  thunder,  and  the  moon  rocked  and  swayed.  All 
grew  dark  about  me,  and  I  fell  on  the  floor,  and  lay  half- 
stunned.  I  could  hear  everything  but  could  see  nothing. 
'Shall  I  throw  her  out  of  the  door,  my  lady?'  said  the  little 
man.  'No,'  she  answered;  'she's  not  quite  bad  enough  for 
that.  I  don't  think  there's  much  harm  in  her;  only  she'll 
never  do  for  us.  She  would  make  dreadful  mischief  up  here. 
She's  only  fit  for  the  mud.  It's  a  great  pity.  I  am  sorry 
for  her.  Just  take  that  ring  off  her  finger.  I  am  sadly  afraid 
she  has  stolen  it.'  The  little  man  caught  hold  of  my  hand,  and 
I  felt  him  tugging  at  the  ring.  I  tried  to  speak  what  was  true 
about  it,  but,  after  a  terrible  effort,  only  gave  a  groan.  Other 
things  began  to  come  into  my  head.  Somebody  else  had  a 
hold  of  me.    The  little  man  wasn't  there.    I  opened  my  eyes 

[278] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

at  last,  and  saw  the  nurse.  I  had  cried  out  in  my  sleep,  and 
she  had  come  and  waked  me.  But,  Diamond,  for  all  it  was 
only  a  dream,  I  cannot  help  being  ashamed  of  myself  yet  for 
opening  the  lady's  box  of  bees." 

"You  wouldn't  do  it  again — would  you — if  she  were  to 
take  you  back?"  said  Diamond. 

"No.  I  don't  think  anything  would  ever  make  me  do  it 
again.   But  where's  the  good?    I  shall  never  have  the  chance." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  Diamond. 

"You  silly  baby!    It  was  only  a  dream,"  said  Nanny. 

"I  know  that,  Nanny,  dear.  But  how  can  you  tell  you 
mayn't  dream  it  again?" 

"That's  not  a  bit  likely." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  Diamond. 

"You're  always  saying  that,"  said  Nanny.  "I  don't  like  it." 

"Then  I  won't  say  it  again — if  I  don't  forget,"  said  Dia- 
mond. "But  it  was  such  a  beautiful  dream! — wasn't  it, 
Nanny?  What  a  pity  you  opened  that  door  and  let  the  bees 
out!  You  might  have  had  such  a  long  dream,  and  such  nice 
talks  with  the  moon-lady !  Do  try  to  go  again,  Nanny.  I  do 
so  want  to  hear  more." 

But  now  the  nurse  came  and  told  him  it  was  time  to  go; 
and  Diamond  went,  saying  to  himself,  "I  can't  help  thinking 
that  North  Wind  had  something  to  do  with  that  dream.  It 
would  be  tiresome  to  lie  there  all  day  and  all  night  too — 
without  dreaming.  Perhaps  if  she  hadn't  done  that,  the  moon 
might  have  carried  her  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind — who 
knows?" 

[279] 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
THE  NORTH  WIND  DOTH  BLOW 

IT  was  a  great  delight  to  Diamond  when  at  length  Nanny 
was  well  enough  to  leave  the  hospital  and  go  home  to 
their  house.  She  was  not  very  strong  yet,  but  Diamond's 
mother  was  very  considerate  of  her,  and  took  care  that  she 
should  have  nothing  to  do  she  was  not  quite  fit  for.  If  Nanny 
had  been  taken  straight  from  the  street,  it  is  very  probable 
she  would  not  have  been  so  pleasant  in  a  decent  household,  or 
so  easy  to  teach;  but  after  the  refining  influences  of  her  illness 
and  the  kind  treatment  she  had  had  in  the  hospital,  she 
moved  about  the  house  just  like  some  rather  sad  pleasure 
haunting  the  mind.  As  she  got  better,  and  the  color  came 
back  to  her  cheeks,  her  step  grew  lighter  and  quicker,  her 
smile  shone  out  more  readily,  and  it  became  certain  that  she 
would  soon  be  a  treasure  of  help.  It  was  great  fun  to  see 
Diamond  teaching  her  how  to  hold  the  baby,  and  wash  and 
dress  him,  and  often  they  laughed  together  over  her  awk- 
wardness. But  she  had  not  many  such  lessons  before  she  was 
able  to  perform  those  duties  quite  as  well  as  Diamond  himself. 
Things  however  did  not  go  well  with  Joseph  from  the  very 
arrival  of  Ruby.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  the  red  beast  had 
brought  ill  luck  with  him.  The  fares  were  fewer,  and  the  pay 
less.  Ruby's  services  did  indeed  make  the  week's  income  at 
first  a  little  beyond  what  it  used  to  be,  but  then  there  were 
two  more  to  feed.    After  the  first  month  he  fell  lame,  and  for 

[280] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

the  whole  of  the  next  Joseph  dared  not  attempt  to  work  him. 
I  cannot  say  that  he  never  grumbled,  for  his  own  health  was 
far  from  what  it  had  been;  but  I  can  say  that  he  tried  to  do 
his  best.  During  all  that  month,  they  lived  on  very  short 
commons  indeed,  seldom  tasting  meat  except  on  Sundays,  and 
poor  old  Diamond,  who  worked  hardest  of  all,  not  even  then 
— so  that  at  the  end  of  it  he  was  as  thin  as  a  clothes-horse, 
while  Ruby  was  as  plump  and  sleek  as  a  bishop's  cob. 

Nor  was  it  much  better  after  Ruby  was  able  to  work  again, 
for  it  was  a  season  of  great  depression  in  business,  and  that  is 
very  soon  felt  amongst  the  cabmen.  City  men  look  more  after 
their  shillings,  and  their  wives  and  daughters  have  less  to 
spend.  It  was  besides  a  wet  autumn,  and  bread  rose  greatly 
in  price.  When  I  add  to  this  that  Diamond's  mother  was  but 
poorly,  for  a  new  baby  was  coming,  you  will  see  that  these 
were  not  very  jolly  times  for  our  friends  in  the  Mews, 

Notwithstanding  the  depressing  influences  around  him, 
however,  Joseph  was  able  to  keep  a  little  hope  alive  in  his 
heart;  and  when  he  came  home  at  night,  would  get  Diamond 
to  read  to  him,  and  would  also  make  Nanny  produce  her  book 
that  he  might  see  how  she  was  getting  on.  For  Diamond  had 
taken  her  education  in  hand,  and  as  she  was  a  clever  child, 
she  was  very  soon  able  to  put  letters  and  words  together. 

Thus  the  three  months  passed  away,  but  Mr.  Raymond 
did  not  return.  Joseph  had  been  looking  anxiously  for  him, 
chiefly  with  the  desire  of  getting  rid  of  Ruby — not  that  he 
was  absolutely  of  no  use  to  him,  but  that  he  was  a  constant 
weight  upon  his  mind.  Indeed,  as  far  as  provision  went,  he 
was  rather  worse  off  with  Ruby  and  Nanny  than  he  had  been 

[  281  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

before,  but  on  the  other  hand,  Nanny  was  a  great  help  in  the 
house,  and  it  was  a  comfort  to  him  to  think  that  when  the  new 
baby  did  come,  Nanny  would  be  with  his  wife. 

Of  God's  gifts  a  baby  is  of  the  greatest;  therefore  it  is  no 
wonder  that  when  this  one  came,  she  was  as  heartily  welcomed 
by  the  little  household  as  if  she  had  brought  plenty  with  her. 
Of  course  she  made  a  great  difference  in  the  work  to  be  done 
— far  more  difference  than  her  size  warranted,  but  Nanny  was 
no  end  of  help,  and  Diamond  was  as  much  of  a  sunbeam  as 
ever,  and  began  to  sing  to  the  new  baby  the  first  moment  he 
got  her  in  his  arms.  But  he  did  not  sing  the  same  songs  to  her 
that  he  had  sung  to  his  brother;  for,  he  said,  she  was  a  new 
baby  and  must  have  new  songs;  and  besides,  she  was  a  sister- 
baby  and  not  a  brother-baby,  and  of  course  would  not  like  the 
same  kind  of  songs.  Where  the  difference  in  his  songs  lay, 
however,  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  able  to  point  out.  One  thing 
I  am  sure  of,  that  they  not  only  had  no  small  share  in  the 
education  of  the  little  girl,  but  helped  the  whole  family  a  great 
deal  more  than  they  were  aware. 

How  they  managed  to  get  through  the  long  dreary  expen- 
sive winter,  I  can  hardly  say.  Sometimes  things  were  better, 
sometimes  worse.  But  at  last  the  spring  came,  and  the  winter 
was  over  and  gone,  and  that  was  much.  Still  Mr.  Raymond 
did  not  return,  and  although  the  mother  would  have  been  able 
to  manage  without  Nanny  now,  they  could  not  look  for  a  place 
for  her  so  long  as  they  had  Ruby;  and  they  were  not  alto- 
gether sorry  for  this. 

One  week  at  last  was  worse  than  they  had  yet  had.  They 
were  almost  without  bread  before  it  was  over.    But  the  sadder 

[282] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

he  saw  his  father  and  mother  looking,  the  more  Diamond  set 
himself  to  sing  to  the  two  babies. 

One  thing  which  had  increased  their  expenses  was,  that 
they  had  been  forced  to  hire  another  little  room  for  Nanny. 
When  the  second  baby  came,  Diamond  gave  up  his  room  that 
Nanny  might  be  at  hand  to  help  his  mother,  and  went  to  hers, 
which,  although  a  fine  place  to  what  she  had  been  accustomed 
to,  was  not  very  nice  in  his  eyes.  He  did  not  mind  the  change 
though,  for  was  not  his  mother  the  more  comfortable  for  it? 
And  was  not  Nanny  more  comfortable  too?  And  indeed  was 
not  Diamond  himself  more  comfortable  that  other  people  were 
more  comfortable?  And  if  there  was  more  comfort  every  way, 
the  change  was  a  happy  one. 


[  285  ] 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
DIAMOND  AND  RUBY 

IT  was  Friday  night,  and  Diamond,  like  the  rest  of  the 
household,  had  had  very  little  to  eat  that  day.  The 
mother  would  always  pay  the  week's  rent  before  she  laid 
out  anything  even  on  food.  His  father  had  been  very  gloomy 
— so  gloomy  that  he  had  actually  been  cross  to  his  wife.  It  is 
a  strange  thing  how  the  pain  of  seeing  the  suffering  of  those 
we  love  will  sometimes  make  us  add  to  their  suffering  by  being 
cross  with  them.  This  comes  of  not  having  faith  enough  in 
God,  and  shows  how  necessary  this  faith  is,  for  when  we  lose 
it,  we  lose  even  the  kindness  which  alone  can  soothe  the  suffer- 
ing. Diamond  in  consequence  had  gone  to  bed  very  quiet  and 
thoughtful — a  little  troubled  indeed. 

It  had  been  a  very  stormy  winter;  and  even  now  that  the 
spring  had  come,  the  north  wind  often  blew.  When  Diamond 
went  to  his  bed,  which  was  in  a  tiny  room  in  the  roof,  he  heard 
it  like  the  sea  moaning;  and  when  he  fell  asleep  he  still  heard 
the  moaning.  All  at  once  he  said  to  himself,  "Am  I  awake, 
or  am  I  asleep?"  But  he  had  no  time  to  answer  the  question, 
for  there  was  North  Wind  calling  him.  His  heart  beat  very 
fast,  it  was  such  a  long  time  since  he  had  heard  that  voice. 
He  jumped  out  of  bed,  and  looked  everywhere,  but  could  not 
see  her.  "Diamond,  come  here,"  she  said  again  and  again; 
but  where  the  here  was  he  could  not  tell.  To  be  sure  the  room 
was  all  but  quite  dark,  and  she  might  be  close  beside  him. 

[284] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Dear  North  Wind,"  said  Diamond,  "I  want  so  much  to 
go  to  you,  but  I  can't  tell  where." 

"Come  here,  Diamond,"  was  all  her  answer. 

Diamond  opened  the  door,  and  went  out  of  the  room,  and 
down  the  stair  and  into  the  yard.  His  little  heart  was  in  a 
flutter,  for  he  had  long  given  up  all  thought  of  seeing  her  again. 
Neither  now  was  he  to  see  her.  When  he  got  out,  a  great  puff 
of  wind  came  against  him,  and  in  obedience  to  it  he  turned  his 
back,  and  went  as  it  blew.  It  blew  him  right  up  to  the  stable- 
door,  and  went  on  blowing. 

"She  wants  me  to  go  into  the  stable,"  said  Diamond  to 
himself;    "but  the  door  is  locked." 

He  knew  where  the  key  was,  in  a  certain  hole  in  the  wall — 
far  too  high  for  him  to  get  at.  He  ran  to  the  place,  however: 
just  as  he  reached  it  there  came  a  wild  blast,  and  down  fell 
the  key  clanging  on  the  stones  at  his  feet.  He  picked  it  up, 
and  ran  back  and  opened  the  stable-door,  and  went  in.  And 
what  do  you  think  he  saw? 

A  little  light  came  through  the  dusty  window  from  a  gas- 
lamp,  sufficient  to  show  him  Diamond  and  Ruby  with  their 
two  heads  up,  looking  at  each  other  across  the  partition  of 
their  stalls.  The  light  showed  the  white  mark  on  Diamond's 
forehead,  but  Ruby's  eye  shone  so  bright,  that  he  thought 
more  light  came  out  of  it  than  went  in.  This  is  what  he 
saw. 

But  what  do  you  think  he  heard? 

He  heard  the  two  horses  talking  to  each  other — in  a  strange 
language,  which  yet,  somehow  or  other,  he  could  understand, 
and  turn  over  in  his  mind  in  English.     The  first  words  he 

[  285  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

heard  were  from  Diamond,  who  apparently  had  been  already 
quarreling  with  Ruby. 

"Look  how  fat  you  are,  Ruby!"  said  old  Diamond.  "You 
are  so  plump  and  your  skin  shines  so,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself." 

"There's  no  harm  in  being  fat,"  said  Ruby  in  a  deprecat- 
ing tone.  "No,  nor  in  being  sleek.  I  may  as  well  shine  as 
not." 

"No  harm?"  retorted  Diamond.  "Is  it  no  harm  to  go 
eating  up  all  poor  master's  oats,  and  taking  up  so  much  of  his 
time  grooming  you,  when  you  only  work  six  hours — no,  not 
six  hours  a  day,  and,  as  I  hear,  get  along  no  faster  than  a 
big  dray-horse  with  two  tons  behind  him? — So  they  tell  me." 

"Your  master's  not  mine,"  said  Ruby.  "I  must  attend 
to  my  own  master's  interests,  and  eat  all  that  is  given  me, 
and  be  as  sleek  and  fat  as  I  can,  and  go  no  faster  than  I  need." 

"Now  really  if  the  rest  of  the  horses  weren't  all  asleep,  poor 
things — they  work  till  they're  tired — I  do  believe  they  would 
get  up  and  kick  you  out  of  the  stable.  You  make  me  ashamed 
of  being  a  horse.  You  dare  to  say  my  master  ain't  your  master ! 
That's  your  gratitude  for  the  way  he  feeds  you  and  spares 
you !    Pray  where  would  your  carcass  be  if  it  weren't  for  him?  " 

"He  doesn't  do  it  for  my  sake.  If  I  were  his  own  horse, 
he  would  work  me  as  hard  as  he  does  you." 

"And  I'm  proud  to  be  so  worked.  I  wouldn't  be  as  fat 
as  you — not  for  all  you're  worth.  You're  a  disgrace  to  the 
stable.  Look  at  the  horse  next  you.  He's  something  like  a 
horse — all  skin  and  bone.  And  his  master  ain't  over  kind  to 
him  either.     He  put  a  stinging  lash  on  his  whip  last  week. 

[286] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

But  that  old  horse  knows  he's  got  the  wife  and  children  to 
keep — as  well  as  his  drunken  master — and  he  works  like  a 
horse.  I  dare  say  he  grudges  his  master  the  beer  he  drinks, 
but  I  don't  believe  he  grudges  anything  else." 

"Well,  I  don't  grudge  yours  what  he  gets  by  me,"  said 
Ruby. 

"Gets!"  retorted  Diamond.  "What  he  gets  isn't  worth 
grudging.  It  comes  to  next  to  nothing — what  with  your  fat 
and  your  shine." 

"Well,  at  least  you  ought  to  be  thankful  you're  the  better 
for  it.    You  get  a  two  hours'  rest  a  day  out  of  it." 

"I  thank  my  master  for  that — not  you,  you  lazy  fellow! 
You  go  along  like  a  buttock  of  beef  upon  castors — you  do." 

"Ain't  you  afraid  I'll  kick,  if  you  go  on  like  that,  Dia- 
mond?" 

"Kick!  You  couldn't  kick  if  you  tried.  You  might  heave 
your  rump  up  half  a  foot,  but  for  lashing  out — oho!  If  you 
did,  you'd  be  down  on  your  belly  before  you  could  get  your 
legs  under  you  again.  It's  my  belief,  once  out,  they'd  stick 
out  for  ever.  Talk  of  kicking!  Why  don't  you  put  one  foot 
before  the  other  now  and  then  when  you're  in  the  cab?  The 
abuse  master  gets  for  your  sake  is  quite  shameful.  No  decent 
horse  would  bring  it  on  him.  Depend  upon  it,  Ruby,  no 
cabman  likes  to  be  abused  any  more  than  his  fare.  But  his 
fares,  at  least  when  you  are  between  the  shafts,  are  very 
much  to  be  excused.     Indeed  they  are." 

"Well,  you  see,  Diamond,  I  don't  want  to  go  lame  again." 

"I  don't  believe  you  were  so  very  lame  after  all — there!" 

"Oh,  but  I  was." 

[  287] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Then  I  believe  it  was  all  your  own  fault.  I'm  not  lame. 
I  never  was  lame  in  all  my  life.  You  don't  take  care  of  your 
legs.  You  never  lay  them  down  at  night.  There  you  are 
with  your  huge  carcass  crushing  down  your  poor  legs  all 
night  long.  You  don't  even  care  for  your  own  legs — so  long 
as  you  can  eat,  eat,  and  sleep,  sleep.    You  a  horse  indeed!" 

"But  I  tell  you  I  was  lame." 

"I'm  not  denying  there  was  a  puffy  look  about  your  off- 
pastern.    But  my  belief  is,  it  wasn't  even  grease — it  was  fat." 

"I  tell  you  I  put  my  foot  on  one  of  those  horrid  stones 
they  make  the  roads  with,  and  it  gave  my  ankle  such  a  twist." 

"Ankle  indeed!  Why  should  you  ape  your  betters?  Horses 
ain't  got  any  ankles:  they're  only  pasterns.  And  so  long  as 
you  don't  lift  your  feet  better,  but  fall  asleep  between  every 
step,  you'll  run  a  good  chance  of  laming  all  your  ankles  as  you 
call  them,  one  after  another.  It's  not  your  lively  horse  that 
comes  to  grief  in  that  way.  I  tell  you  I  believe  it  wasn't  much, 
and  if  it  was,  it  was  your  own  fault.  There!  I've  done.  I'm 
going  to  sleep.  I'll  try  to  think  as  well  of  you  as  I  can.  If 
you  would  but  step  out  a  bit  and  run  off  a  little  of  your  fat!" 

Here  Diamond  began  to  double  up  his  knees;  but  Ruby 
spoke  again,  and,  as  young  Diamond  thought,  in  a  rather 
different  tone. 

"I  say,  Diamond,  I  can't  bear  to  have  an  honest  old  horse 
like  you,  think  of  me  like  that.  I  will  tell  you  the  truth:  it 
was  my  own  fault  that  I  fell  lame." 

"I  told  you  so,"  returned  the  other,  tumbling  against  the 
partition  as  he  rolled  over  on  his  side  to  give  his  legs  every 
possible  privilege  in  their  narrow  circumstances. 

[  288] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  meant  to  do  it,  Diamond. " 

At  the  words,  the  old  horse  arose  with  a  scramble  like 
thunder,  shot  his  angry  head  and  glaring  eye  over  into  Ruby's 
stall,  and  said — 

"Keep  out  of  my  way,  you  unworthy  wretch,  or  I'll  bite 
you.     You  a  horse!    Why  did  you  do  that?" 

"Because  I  wanted  to  grow  fat." 

"You  grease-tub!  Oh!  my  teeth  and  tail!  I  thought  you 
were  a  humbug!  Why  did  you  want  to  get  fat?  There's  no 
truth  to  be  got  out  of  you  but  by  cross-questioning.  You 
ain't  fit  to  be  a  horse." 

"Because  once  I  am  fat,  my  nature  is  to  keep  fat  for  a  long 
time;  and  I  didn't  know  when  master  might  come  home  and 
want  to  see  me." 

"You  conceited,  good-for-nothing  brute!  You're  only  fit 
for  the  knacker's  yard.  You  wanted  to  look  handsome,  did 
you?  Hold  your  tongue,  or  I'll  break  my  halter  and  be  at 
you — with  your  handsome  fat!" 

"  Never  mind,  Diamond.  You're  a  good  horse.  You  can't 
hurt  me." 

"Can't  hurt  you!     Just  let  me  once  try." 

"No,  you  can't." 

"Why  then?" 

"Because  I'm  an  angel." 

"What's  that?" 

"Of  course  you  don't  know." 

"Indeed  I  don't." 

"I  know  you  don't.    An  ignorant,  rude  old  human  horse, 

like  you,  couldn't  know  it.    But  there's  young  Diamond  listen- 

[289] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

ing  to  all  we're  saying;  and  he  knows  well  enough  thera  wre 
horses  in  heaven  for  angels  to  ride  upon,  as  well  as  other 
animals,  lions  and  eagles  and  bulls,  in  more  important  situa- 
tions. The  horses  the  angels  ride,  must  be  angel-horses,  else 
the  angels  couldn't  ride  upon  them.    Well,  I'm  one  of  them." 

"You  ain't." 

"Did  you  ever  know  a  horse  tell  a  lie?" 

"Never  before.    But  you've  confessed  to  shamming  lame." 

"Nothing  of  the  sort.  It  was  necessary  I  should  grow  fat, 
and  necessary  that  good  Joseph,  your  master,  should  grow  lean. 
I  could  have  pretended  to  be  lame,  but  that  no  horse,  least  of 
all  an  angel-horse,  would  do.  So  I  must  he  lame,  and  so  I 
sprained  my  ankle — for  the  angel-horses  have  ankles — they 
don't  talk  horse-slang  up  there — and  it  hurt  me  very  much,  I 
assure  you,  Diamond,  though  you  mayn't  be  good  enough  to 
be  able  to  believe  it." 

Old  Diamond  made  no  reply.  He  had  lain  down  again, 
and  a  sleepy  snort,  very  like  a  snore,  revealed  that,  if  he  was 
not  already  asleep,  he  was  past  understanding  a  word  that 
Ruby  was  saying.  When  young  Diamond  found  this,  he 
thought  he  might  venture  to  take  up  the  dropt  shuttlecock 
of  the  conversation. 

"I'm  good  enough  to  believe  it,  Ruby,"  he  said. 

But  Ruby  never  turned  his  head,  or  took  any  notice  of 
him.  I  suppose  he  did  not  understand  more  of  English  than 
just  what  the  coachmen  and  stablemen  were  in  the  habit  of 
addressing  him  with.  Finding,  however,  that  his  companion 
made  no  reply,  he  shot  his  head  over  the  partition  and  look- 
ing down  at  him  said — 

[290] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"You  just  wait  till  to-morrow,  and  you'll  see  whether  I'm 
speaking  the  truth  or  not. — I  declare  the  old  horse  is  fast 
asleep! — Diamond! — No  I  won't." 

Ruby  turned  away,  and  began  pulling  at  his  hay-rack  in 
silence. 

Diamond  gave  a  shiver,  and  looking  round  saw  that  the 
door  of  the  stable  was  open.  He  began  to  feel  as  if  he  had 
been  dreaming,  and  after  a  glance  about  the  stable  to  see  if 
North  Wind  was  anywhere  visible,  he  thought  he  had  better 
go  back  to  bed. 


[£91] 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
THE  PROSPECT  BRIGHTENS 

THE  next  morning,  Diamond's  mother  said  to  his  father, 
"I'm  not  quite  comfortable  about  that  child  again." 
"  Which  child,  Martha?  "  asked  Joseph.    "  You've  got 
a  choice  now." 

"Well,  Diamond  I  mean.  I'm  afraid  he's  getting  into  his 
queer  ways  again.  He's  been  at  his  old  trick  of  walking  in  his 
sleep.    I  saw  him  run  up  the  stair  in  the  middle  of  the  night." 

"Didn't  you  go  after  him,  wife?" 

"Of  course  I  did — and  found  him  fast  asleep  in  his  bed. 
It's  because  he's  had  so  little  meat  for  the  last  six  weeks, 
I'm  afraid." 

"It  may  be  that.  I'm  very  sorry.  But  if  it  don't  please 
God  to  send  us  enough,  what  am  I  to  do,  wife?" 

"You  can't  help  it,  I  know,  my  dear  good  man,"  returned 
Martha.  "And  after  all  I  don't  know.  I  don't  see  why  he 
shouldn't  get  on  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  There  I'm  nursing 
baby  all  this  time,  and  I  get  along  pretty  well.  I'm  sure,  to 
hear  the  little  man  singing,  you  wouldn't  think  there  was  much 
amiss  with  him." 

For  at  that  moment  Diamond  was  singing  like  a  lark  in 
the  clouds.  He  had  the  new  baby  in  his  arms,  while  his 
mother  was  dressing  herself.  Joseph  was  sitting  at  his  break- 
fast—a little  weak  tea,  dry  bread,  and  very  dubious  butter — 
which  Nanny  had  set  for  him,  and  which  he  was  enjoying 

[  292] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

because  he  was  hungry.    He  had  groomed  both  horses,  and 
had  got  old  Diamond  harnessed  ready  to  put  to. 

"Think  of  a  fat  angel,  Dulcimer!"  said  Diamond. 

The  baby  had  not  been  christened  yet,  but  Diamond, 
in  reading  his  bible,  had  come  upon  the  word  dulcimer,  and 
thought  it  so  pretty  that  ever  after  he  called  his  sister  Dul- 
cimer. 

"Think  of  a  red  fat  angel,  Dulcimer!"  he  repeated;  "for 
Ruby's  an  angel  of  a  horse,  Dulcimer.  He  sprained  his  ankle 
and  got  fat  on  purpose." 

"What  purpose,  Diamond?"  asked  his  father. 

"All!  that  I  can't  tell.  I  suppose  to  look  handsome  when 
his  master  comes,"  answered  Diamond. — "What  do  you  think, 
Dulcimer?    It  must  be  for  some  good,  for  Ruby's  an  angel." 

"I  wish  I  were  rid  of  him,  anyhow,"  said  his  father;  "for 
he  weighs  heavy  on  my  mind." 

"No  wonder,  father:  he's  so  fat,"  said  Diamond.  "But 
you  needn't  be  afraid,  for  everybody  says  he's  in  better  con- 
dition than  when  you  had  him." 

"Yes,  but  he  may  be  as  thin  as  a  tin  horse  before  his  owner 
comes.    It  was  too  bad  to  leave  him  on  my  hands  this  way." 

"Perhaps  he  couldn't  help  it,"  suggested  Diamond.  "I 
dare  say  he  has  some  good  reason  for  it." 

"So  I  should  have  said,"  returned  his  father,  "if  he  had 
not  driven  such  a  hard  bargain  with  me  at  first." 

"But  we  don't  know  what  may  come  of  it  yet,  husband," 
said  his  wife.  "Mr.  Raymond  may  give  a  little  to  boot,  seeing 
you've  had  more  of  the  bargain  than  you  wanted  or  reckoned 
upon." 

[293] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I'm  afraid  not:  he's  a  hard  man,"  said  Joseph,  as  he  rose 
and  went  to  get  his  cab  out. 

Diamond  resumed  his  singing.  For  some  time  he  carolled 
snatches  of  everything  or  anything;  but  at  last  it  settled  down 
into  something  like  what  follows.  I  cannot  tell  where  or  how 
he  got  it. 

Where  did  you  come  from,  baby  dear? 
Out  of  the  everywhere  into  here. 

Where  did  you  get  your  eyes  so  blue? 
Out  of  the  sky  as  I  came  through. 

What  makes  the  light  in  them  sparkle  and  spin? 
Some  of  the  starry  spikes  left  in. 

Where  did  you  get  that  little  tear? 
I  found  it  waiting  when  I  got  here. 

What  makes  your  forehead  so  smooth  and  high? 
A  soft  hand  stroked  it  as  I  went  by. 

What  makes  your  cheek  like  a  warm  white  rose? 
I  saw  something  better  than  any  one  knows. 

Whence  that  three-cornered  smile  of  bliss? 
Three  angels  gave  me  at  once  a  kiss. 

Where  did  you  get  this  pearly  ear? 
God  spoke,  and  it  came  out  to  hear. 

Where  did  you  get  those  arms  and  hands? 
Love  made  itself  into  hooks  and  bands. 

Feet,  whence  did  you  come,  you  darling  things? 
From  the  same  box  as  the  cherubs'  wings. 

How  did  they  all  just  come  to  be  you? 
God  thought  about  me,  and  so  I  grew. 

But  how  did  you  come  to  us,  you  dear? 
God  thought  about  you,  and  so  I  am  here. 

[294] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"  You  never  made  that  song,  Diamond,"  said  his  mother. 

"No,  mother.  I  wish  I  had.  No,  I  don't.  That  would  be 
to  take  it  from  somebody  else.    But  it's  mine  for  all  that." 

"What  makes  it  yours?" 

"I  love  it  so." 

"Does  loving  a  thing  make  it  yours?" 

"I  think  so,  mother — at  least  more  than  anything  else  can. 
If  I  didn't  love  baby  (which  couldn't  be,  you  know),  she 
wouldn't  be  mine  a  bit.  But  I  do  love  baby,  and  baby  is  my 
very  own  Dulcimer." 

"The  baby's  mine,  Diamond." 

"That  makes  her  the  more  mine,  mother." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?" 

"Because  you're  mine,  mother." 

"Is  that  because  you  love  me?" 

"Yes,  just  because.  Love  makes  the  only  myness,"  said 
Diamond. 

When  his  father  came  home  to  have  his  dinner,  and  change 
Diamond  for  Ruby,  they  saw  him  look  very  sad,  and  he  told 
them  he  had  not  had  a  fare  worth  mentioning  the  whole 
morning. 

"We  shall  all  have  to  go  to  the  workhouse,  wife,"  he  said. 

"It  would  be  better  to  go  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind," 
said  Diamond,  dreamily,  not  intending  to  say  it  aloud. 

"So  it  would,"  answered  his  father.  "But  how  are  we  to 
get  there,  Diamond?" 

"We  must  wait  till  we're  taken,"  returned  Diamond. 

Before  his  father  could  speak  again,  a  knock  came  to  the 
door,  and  in  walked  Mr.  Raymond  with  a  smile  on  his  face. 

[  295  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Joseph  got  up  and  received  him  respectfully,  but  not  very 
cordially.  Martha  set  a  chair  for  him,  but  he  would  not  sit 
down. 

"You  are  not  very  glad  to  see  me,"  he  said  to  Joseph. 
"You  don't  want  to  part  with  the  old  horse." 

"Indeed,  sir,  you  are  mistaken  there.  What  with  anxiety 
about  him,  and  bad  luck,  I've  wished  I  were  rid  of  him  a 
thousand  times.  It  was  only  to  be  for  three  months,  and 
here  it's  eight  or  nine." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  such  a  statement,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 
"Hasn't  he  been  of  service  to  you?" 

"Not  much,  not  with  his  lameness " 

"Ah!"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  hastily — "you've  been  laming 
him — have  you?    That  accounts  for  it.     I  see,  I  see." 

"  It  wasn't  my  fault,  and  he's  all  right  now.  I  don't  know 
how  it  happened,  but ■" 

"He  did  it  on  purpose,"  said  Diamond.  "He  put  his 
foot  on  a  stone  just  to  twist  his  ankle." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  Diamond?"  said  his  father,  turn- 
ing to  him.  "I  never  said  so,  for  I  could  not  think  how  it 
came." 

"I  heard  it — in  the  stable,"  answered  Diamond. 

"Let's  have  a  look  at  him,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"If  you'll  step  into  the  yard,"  said  Joseph,  "I'll  bring 
him  out." 

They  went,  and  Joseph,  having  first  taken  off  his  harness, 
walked  Ruby  into  the  middle  of  the  yard. 

"Why,"  said  Mr.  Raymond,  "you've  not  been  using  him 
well." 

[£96] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  that,  sir.  I  didn't  expect 
to  hear  that  from  you.  He's  sound  in  wind  and  limb — as 
sound  as  a  barrel." 

"And  as  big,  you  might  add.  Why,  he's  as  fat  as  a  pig! 
You  don't  call  that  good  usage!" 

Joseph  was  too  angry  to  make  any  answer. 

"You've  not  worked  him  enough,  I  say.  That's  not  mak- 
ing a  good  use  of  him.     That's  not  doing  as  you'd  be  done 

by." 

"I  shouldn't  be  sorry  if  I  was  served  the  same,  sir." 

"He's  too  fat,  I  say." 

"There  was  a  whole  month  I  couldn't  work  him  at  all, 
and  he  did  nothing  but  eat  his  head  off.  He's  an  awful  eater. 
I've  taken  the  best  part  of  six  hours  a  day  out  of  him  since, 
but  I'm  always  afraid  of  his  coming  to  grief  again,  and  so  I 
couldn't  make  the  most  even  of  that.  I  declare  to  you,  sir, 
when  he's  between  the  shafts,  I  sit  on  the  box  as  miserable  as 
if  I'd  stolen  him.  He  looks  all  the  time  as  if  he  was  a-bottling 
up  of  complaints  to  make  of  me  the  minute  he  set  eyes  on 
you  again.  There!  look  at  him  now,  squinting  round  at  me 
with  one  eye!  I  declare  to  you,  on  my  word,  I  haven't  laid 
the  whip  on  him  more  than  three  times." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it.    He  never  did  want  the  whip." 

"I  didn't  say  that,  sir.  If  ever  a  horse  wanted  the  whip, 
he  do.  He's  brought  me  to  beggary  almost  with  his  snail's 
pace.    I'm  very  glad  you've  come  to  rid  me  of  him." 

"I  don't  know  that,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.  "Suppose  I 
were  to  ask  you  to  buy  him  of  me — cheap." 

"I  wouldn't  have  him  in  a  present,  sir.    I  don't  like  him. 

[297] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  I  wouldn't  drive  a  horse  that  I  didn't  like — no,  not  for 
gold.  It  can't  come  to  good  where  there's  no  love  between 
'em." 

"Just  bring  out  your  own  horse,  and  let  me  see  what  sort 
of  a  pair  they'd  make." 

Joseph  laughed  rather  bitterly  as  he  went  to  fetch  Dia- 
mond. 

When  the  two  were  placed  side  by  side,  Mr.  Raymond 
could  hardly  keep  his  countenance,  but  from  a  mingling  of 
feelings.  Beside  the  great  red  round  barrel  Ruby,  all  body 
and  no  legs,  Diamond  looked  like  a  clothes-horse  with  a  skin 
thrown  over  it.  There  was  hardly  a  spot  of  him  where  you 
could  not  descry  some  sign  of  a  bone  underneath.  Gaunt 
and  grim  and  weary  he  stood,  kissing  his  master,  and  heed- 
ing no  one  else. 

"You  haven't  been  using  him  well,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"I  must  say,"  returned  Joseph,  throwing  an  arm  round 
his  horse's  neck,  "that  the  remark  had  better  have  been 
spared,  sir.    The  horse  is  worth  three  of  the  other  now." 

"I  don't  think  so.  I  think  they  make  a  very  nice  pair. 
If  the  one's  too  fat,  the  other's  too  lean — so  that's  all  right. 
And  if  you  won't  buy  my  Ruby,  I  must  buy  your  Diamond." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Joseph,  in  a  tone  implying  any- 
thing but  thanks. 

"You  don't  seem  to  like  the  proposal,"  said  Mr.  Raymond. 

"I  don't,"  returned  Joseph.  "I  wouldn't  part  with  my 
old  Diamond  for  his  skin  as  full  of  nuggets  as  it  is  of  bones." 

"Who  said  anything  about  parting  with  him?" 

"You  did  now,  sir." 

[298] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"No;  I  didn't.  I  only  spoke  of  buying  him  to  make  a 
pair  with  Ruby.  We  could  pare  Ruby  and  patch  Diamond  a 
bit.  And  for  height,  they  are  as  near  a  match  as  I  care  about. 
Of  course  you  would  be  the  coachman — if  only  you  would 
consent  to  be  reconciled  to  Ruby." 

Joseph  stood  bewildered,  unable  to  answer. 

"I've  bought  a  small  place  in  Kent,"  continued  Mr.  Ray- 
mond, "and  I  must  have  a  pair  to  my  carriage,  for  the  roads 
are  hilly  thereabouts.  I  don't  want  to  make  a  show  with  a 
pair  of  high-steppers.  I  think  these  will  just  do.  Suppose  for 
a  week  or  two,  you  set  yourself  to  take  Ruby  down  and  bring 
Diamond  up.  If  we  could  only  lay  a  pipe  from  Ruby's  sides 
into  Diamond's,  it  would  be  the  work  of  a  moment.  But  I 
fear  that  wouldn't  answer." 

A  strong  inclination  to  laugh  intruded  upon  Joseph's  in- 
clination to  cry,  and  made  speech  still  harder  than  before. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  he  said  at  length.  "I've  been 
so  miserable,  and  for  so  long,  that  I  never  thought  you  was 
only  a  chaffing  of  me  when  you  said  I  hadn't  used  the  horses 
well.  I  did  grumble  at  you,  sir,  many's  the  time  in  my  trouble; 
but  whenever  I  said  anything,  my  little  Diamond  would  look 
at  me  with  a  smile,  as  much  as  to  say:  *I  know  him  better 
than  you,  father;'  and  upon  my  word,  I  always  thought  the 
boy  must  be  right." 

"Will  you  sell  me  old  Diamond  then?" 

"I  will,  sir,  on  one  condition — that  if  ever  you  want  to 
part  with  him  or  me,  you  give  me  the  option  of  buying  him. 
I  could  not  part  with  him,  sir.  As  to  who  calls  him  his,  that's 
nothing;    for,   as    Diamond   says,   it's   only   loving   a   thing 

[299] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

that  can  make  it  yours — and  I  do  love  old  Diamond,  sir, 
dearly." 

"Well,  there's  a  cheque  for  twenty  pounds,  which  I  wrote 
to  offer  you  for  him,  in  case  I  should  find  you  had  done  the 
handsome  thing  by  Ruby.    Will  that  be  enough?" 

"It's  too  much,  sir.  His  body  ain't  worth  it — shoes  and 
all.  It's  only  his  heart,  sir — that's  worth  millions — but  his 
heart'll  be  mine  all  the  same,  so  it's  too  much,  sir." 

"I  don't  think  so.  It  won't  be,  at  least,  by  the  time  we've 
got  him  fed  up  again.  You  take  it  and  welcome.  Just  go  on 
with  your  cabbing  for  another  month,  only  take  it  out  of  Ruby 
and  let  Diamond  rest,  and  by  that  time  I  shall  be  ready  for 
you  to  go  down  into  the  country." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  thank  you.  Diamond  set  you  down  for 
a  friend,  sir,  the  moment  he  saw  you.  I  do  believe  that  child 
of  mine  knows  more  than  other  people." 

"I  think  so  too,"  said  Mr.  Raymond  as  he  walked  away. 

He  had  meant  to  test  Joseph  when  he  made  the  bargain 
about  Ruby,  but  had  no  intention  of  so  greatly  prolonging  the 
trial.  He  had  been  taken  ill  in  Switzerland,  and  had  been  quite 
unable  to  return  sooner.  He  went  away  now  highly  gratified 
at  finding  that  he  had  stood  the  test,  and  was  a  true  man. 

Joseph  rushed  in  to  his  wife  who  had  been  standing  at  the 
window  anxiously  waiting  the  result  of  the  long  colloquy. 
When  she  heard  that  the  horses  were  to  go  together  in  double 
harness,  she  burst  forth  into  an  immoderate  fit  of  laughter. 
Diamond  came  up  with  the  baby  in  his  arms  and  made  big 
anxious  eyes  at  her,  saying, 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  mother  dear?     Do  cry  a 

[300] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

little.  It  will  do  you  good.  When  father  takes  ever  so  small 
a  drop  of  spirits,  he  puts  water  to  it." 

"You  silly  darling!"  said  his  mother;  "how  could  I  but 
laugh  at  the  notion  of  that  great  fat  Ruby  going  side  by  side 
with  our  poor  old  Diamond?" 

"But  why  not,  mother?  With  a  month's  oats,  and  noth- 
ing to  do,  Diamond'll  be  nearer  Ruby's  size  than  you  will 
father's.  I  think  it's  very  good  for  different  sorts  to  go  to- 
gether. Now  Ruby  will  have  a  chance  of  teaching,  Diamond 
better  manners." 

"How  dare  you  say  such  a  thing,  Diamond?"  said  his 
father,  angrily.  "To  compare  the  two  for  manners,  there's 
no  comparison  possible.    Our  Diamond's  a  gentleman." 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  he  isn't,  father;  for  I  dare  say  some 
gentlemen  judge  their  neigbours  unjustly.  That's  all  I  mean. 
Diamond  shouldn't  have  thought  such  bad  things  of  Ruby. 
He  didn't  try  to  make  the  best  of  him." 

"How  do  you  know  that,  pray?" 

"I  heard  them  talking  about  it  one  night." 

"Who?" 

"Why,  Diamond  and  Ruby.    Ruby's  an  angel." 

Joseph  stared  and  said  no  more.  For  all  his  new  gladness, 
he  was  very  gloomy  as  he  re-harnessed  the  angel,  for  he  thought 
his  darling  Diamond  was  going  out  of  his  mind. 

He  could  not  help  thinking  rather  differently,  however, 
when  he  found  the  change  that  had  come  over  Ruby.  Con- 
sidering his  fat,  he  exerted  himself  amazingly,  and  got  over 
the  ground  with  incredible  speed.  So  willing,  even  anxious, 
was  he  to  go  now,  that  Joseph  had  to  hold  him  quite  tight. 

[301  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Then,  as  he  laughed  at  his  own  fancies,  a  new  fear  came 
upon  him  lest  the  horse  should  break  his  wind,  and  Mr.  Ray- 
mond have  good  cause  to  think  he  had  not  been  using  him 
well.  He  might  even  suppose  that  he  had  taken  advantage 
of  his  new  instructions,  to  let  out  upon  the  horse  some  of  his 
pent-up  dislike;  whereas  in  truth,  it  had  so  utterly  vanished 
that  he  felt  as  if  Ruby  too  had  been  his  friend  all  the  time. 


[302] 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 
IN  THE  COUNTRY 

BEFORE  the  end  of  the  month,  Ruby  had  got  respect- 
ably thin,  and  Diamond  respectably  stout.  They 
really  began  to  look  fit  for  double  harness. 

Joseph  and  his  wife  had  got  their  affairs  in  order,  and 
everything  ready  for  migrating  at  the  shortest  notice;  and 
they  felt  so  peaceful  and  happy  that  they  judged  all  the 
trouble  they  had  gone  through  well  worth  enduring.  As  for 
Nanny,  she  had  been  so  happy  ever  since  she  left  the  hospital, 
that  she  expected  nothing  better,  and  saw  nothing  attractive 
in  the  notion  of  the  country.  At  the  same  time,  she  had  not 
the  least  idea  of  what  the  word  country  meant,  for  she  had 
never  seen  anything  about  her  but  streets  and  gas-lamps. 
Besides,  she  was  more  attached  to  Jim  than  to  Diamond: 
Jim  was  a  reasonable  being,  Diamond  in  her  eyes  at  best 
only  an  amiable,  over-grown  baby,  whom  no  amount  of  expos- 
tulation would  ever  bring  to  talk  sense,  not  to  say  think  it. 
Now  that  she  could  manage  the  baby  as  well  as  he,  she  judged 
herself  altogether  his  superior.  Towards  his  father  and  mother, 
she  was  all  they  could  wish. 

Diamond  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  and  trouble  to 
find  Jim,  and  had  at  last  succeeded  through  the  help  of  the  tall 
policeman,  who  was  glad  to  renew  his  acquaintance  with  the 
strange  child.  Jim  had  moved  his  quarters,  and  had  not  heard 
of  Nanny's  illness  till  some  time  after  she  was  taken  to  the 

[303] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

hospital,  where  he  was  too  shy  to  go  and  inquire  about  her. 
But  when  at  length  she  went  to  live  with  Diamond's  family, 
Jim  was  willing  enough  to  go  and  see  her.  It  was  after  one 
of  his  visits,  during  which  they  had  been  talking  of  her  new 
prospects,  that  Nanny  expressed  to  Diamond  her  opinion  of 
the  country. 

"There  ain't  nothing  in  it  but  the  sun  and  moon,  Dia- 
mond." 

"There's  trees  and  flowers,"  said  Diamond. 

"Well,  they  ain't  no  count,"  returned  Nanny. 

"Ain't  they?  They're  so  beautiful,  they  make  you  happy 
to  look  at  them." 

"That's  because  you're  such  a  silly." 

Diamond  smiled  with  a  far-away  look,  as  if  he  were  gazing 
through  clouds  of  green  leaves  and  the  vision  contented  him. 
But  he  was  thinking  with  himself  what  more  he  could  do  for 
Nanny;  and  that  same  evening  he  went  to  find  Mr.  Ray- 
mond, for  he  had  heard  that  he  had  returned  to  town. 

"Ah!  how  do  you  do,  Diamond?"  said  Mr.  Raymond; 
"I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

And  he  was  indeed,  for  he  had  grown  very  fond  of  him. 
His  opinion  of  him  was  very  different  from  Nanny's. 

"What  do  you  want  now,  my  child?"  he  asked. 

"I'm  always  wanting  something,  sir,"  answered  Diamond. 

"Well,  that's  quite  right,  so  long  as  what  you  want  is 
right.  Everybody  is  always  wanting  something;  only  we 
don't  mention  it  in  the  right  place  often  enough.  What  is 
it  now?" 

"There's  a  friend  of  Nanny's,  a  lame  boy,  called  Jim." 

[304] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I've  heard  of  him,"  said  Mr.  Raymond.     "Well?" 

"Nanny  doesn't  care  much  about  going  to  the  country,  sir." 

"Well,  what  has  that  to  do  with  Jim?" 

"You  couldn't  find  a  corner  for  Jim  to  work  in — could 
you,  sir?" 

"I  don't  know  that  I  couldn't.  That  is,  if  you  can  show 
good  reason  for  it." 

"He's  a  good  boy,  sir." 

"Well,  so  much  the  better  for  him." 

"I  know  he  can  shine  boots,  sir." 

"So  much  the  better  for  us." 

"You  want  your  boots  shined  in  the  country — don't  you, 
sir?" 

"Yes,  to  be  sure." 

"It  wouldn't  be  nice  to  walk  over  the  flowers  with  dirty 
boots — would  it,  sir?" 

"No,  indeed." 

"They  wouldn't  like  it— would  they?" 

"No,  they  wouldn't." 

"Then  Nanny  would  be  better  pleased  to  go,  sir." 

"If  the  flowers  didn't  like  dirty  boots  to  walk  over  them, 
Nanny  wouldn't  mind  going  to  the  country?  Is  that  it?  I 
don't  quite  see  it." 

"No,  sir;  I  didn't  mean  that.  I  meant,  if  you  would  take 
Jim  with  you  to  clean  your  boots,  and  do  odd  jobs,  you  know, 
sir,  then  Nanny  would  like  it  better.    She's  so  fond  of  Jim!" 

"Now  you  come  to  the  point,  Diamond.  I  see  what  you 
mean,  exactly.  I  will  turn  it  over  in  my  mind.  Could  you 
bring  Jim  to  see  me?" 

[305] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I'll  try,  sir.  But  they  don't  mind  me  much. — They  think 
I'm  silly,"  added  Diamond,  with  one  of  his  sweetest  smiles. 

What  Mr.  Raymond  thought,  I  dare  hardly  attempt  to  put 
down  here.  But  one  part  of  it  was,  that  the  highest  wisdom 
must  ever  appear  folly  to  those  who  do  not  possess  it. 

"I  think  he  would  come  though — after  dark,  you  know," 
Diamond  continued.  "  He  does  well  at  shining  boots.  People's 
kind  to  lame  boys,  you  know,  sir.  But  after  dark,  there  ain't 
so  much  doing." 

Diamond  succeeded  in  bringing  Jim  to  Mr.  Raymond,  and 
the  consequence  was  that  he  resolved  to  give  the  boy  a  chance. 
He  provided  new  clothes  for  both  him  and  Nanny;  and  upon 
a  certain  day,  Joseph  took  his  wife  and  three  children,  and 
Nanny  and  Jim,  by  train  to  a  certain  station  in  the  county  of 
Kent,  where  they  found  a  cart  waiting  to  carry  them  and 
their  luggage  to  The  Mound,  which  was  the  name  of  Mr.  Ray- 
mond's new  residence.  I  will  not  describe  the  varied  feelings 
of  the  party  as  they  went,  or  when  they  arrived.  All  I  will 
say  is,  that  Diamond,  who  is  my  only  care,  was  full  of  quiet 
delight — a  gladness  too  deep  to  talk  about. 

Joseph  returned  to  town  the  same  night,  and  the  next 
morning  drove  Ruby  and  Diamond  down,  with  the  carriage 
behind  them,  and  Mr.  Raymond  and  a  lady  in  the  carriage. 
For  Mr.  Raymond  was  an  old  bachelor  no  longer :  he  was  bring- 
ing his  wife  with  him  to  live  at  The  Mound.  The  moment  Nanny 
saw  her,  she  recognized  her  as  the  lady  who  had  lent  her  the 
ruby-ring.     That  ring  had  been  given  her  by  Mr.  Raymond. 

The  weather  was  very  hot,  and  the  woods  very  shadowy. 
There  were  not  a  great  many  wild  flowers,  for  it  was  getting 

[306] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

well  towards  autumn,  and  the  most  of  the  wild  flowers  rise 
early  to  be  before  the  leaves,  because  if  they  did  not,  they 
would  never  get  a  glimpse  of  the  sun  for  them.  So  they  have 
their  fun  over,  and  are  ready  to  go  to  bed  again  by  the  time 
the  trees  are  dressed.  But  there  was  plenty  of  the  loveliest 
grass  and  daisies  about  the  house,  and  Diamond's  chief  pleas- 
ure seemed  to  be  to  lie  amongst  them,  and  breathe  the  pure 
air.  But  all  the  time,  he  was  dreaming  of  the  country  at  the 
back  of  the  north  wind,  and  trying  to  recall  the  songs  the 
river  used  to  sing.  For  this  was  more  like  being  at  the  back 
of  the  north  wind  than  anything  he  had  known  since  he  left 
it.  Sometimes  he  would  have  his  little  brother,  sometimes 
his  little  sister,  and  sometimes  both  of  them  in  the  grass  with 
him,  and  then  he  felt  just  like  a  cat  with  her  first  kittens, 
he  said,  only  he  couldn't  purr — all  he  could  do  was  to  sing. 

These  were  very  different  times  from  those  when  he  used 
to  drive  the  cab,  but  you  must  not  suppose  that  Diamond 
was  idle.  He  did  not  do  so  much  for  his  mother  now,  because 
Nanny  occupied  his  former  place;  but  he  helped  his  father 
still,  both  in  the  stable  and  the  harness-room,  and  generally 
went  with  him  on  the  box  that  he  might  learn  to  drive  a  pair, 
and  be  ready  to  open  the  carriage-door.  Mr.  Raymond  ad- 
vised his  father  to  give  him  plenty  of  liberty. 

"A  boy  like  that,"  he  said,  "ought  not  to  be  pushed." 

Joseph  assented  heartily,  smiling  to  himself  at  the  idea  of 

pushing  Diamond.     After  doing  everything  that  fell  to  his 

share,  the  boy  had  a  wealth  of  time  at  his  disposal.    And  a 

happy,  sometimes  a  merry  time  it  was.    Only  for  two  months 

or  so,  he  neither  saw  nor  heard  anything  of  North  Wind. 

[  307  ]  * 


CHAPTER  XXXV 
I  MAKE  DIAMOND'S  ACQUAINTANCE 

MR.  RAYMOND'S  house  was  called  The  Mound,  be- 
cause it  stood  upon  a  little  steep  knoll,  so  smooth 
and  symmetrical  that  it  showed  itself  at  once  to  be 
artificial.  It  had,  beyond  doubt,  been  built  for  Queen  Eliza- 
beth as  a  hunting-tower — a  place,  namely,  from  the  top  of 
which  you  could  see  the  country  for  miles  on  all  sides,  and 
so  be  able  to  follow  with  your  eyes  the  flying  deer  and  the 
pursuing  hounds  and  horsemen.  The  mound  had  been  cast 
up  to  give  a  good  basement-advantage  over  the  neighboring 
heights  and  woods.  There  was  a  great  quarry-hole  not  far 
off,  brimful  of  water,  from  which  as  the  current  legend  stated, 
the  materials  forming  the  heart  of  the  mound — a  kind  of  stone 
unfit  for  building — had  been  dug.  The  house  itself  was  of 
brick,  and  they  said  the  foundations  were  first  laid  in  the 
natural  level,  and  then  the  stones  and  earth  of  the  mound 
were  heaped  about  and  between  them,  so  that  its  great  height 
should  be  well  buttressed. 

Joseph  and  his  wife  lived  in  a  little  cottage  a  short  way 
from  the  house.  It  was  a  real  cottage,  with  a  roof  of  thick 
thatch,  which,  in  June  and  July,  the  wind  sprinkled  with  the 
red  and  white  petals  it  shook  from  the  loose  topmost  sprays 
of  the  rose-trees  climbing  the  walls.  At  first  Diamond  had  a 
nest  under  this  thatch — a  pretty  little  room  with  white  muslin 
curtains,  but  afterwards  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raymond  wanted  to 

[308] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

have  him  for  a  page  in  the  house,  and  his  father  and  mother 
were  quite  pleased  to  have  him  employed  without  his  leaving 
them.  So  he  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  blue,  from  which  his 
pale  face  and  fair  hair  came  out  like  the  loveliest  blossom,  and 
took  up  his  abode  in  the  house. 

"Would  you  be  afraid  to  sleep  alone,  Diamond?"  asked 
his  mistress. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  ma'am,"  said  Diamond. 
"I  never  was  afraid  of  anything  that  I  can  recollect — not 
much,  at  least." 

"There's  a  little  room  at  the  top  of  the  house — all  alone," 
she  returned:   "perhaps  you  would  not  mind  sleeping  there?" 

"I  can  sleep  anywhere,  and  I  like  best  to  be  high  up. 
Should  I  be  able  to  see  out?" 

"I  will  show  you  the  place,"  she  answered;  and  taking 
him  by  the  hand,  she  led  him  up  and  up  the  oval-winding 
stair  in  one  of  the  two  towers. 

Near  the  top  they  entered  a  tiny  little  room,  with  two  win- 
dows from  which  you  could  see  over  the  whole  country. 
Diamond  clapped  his  hands  with  delight. 

"You  would  like  this  room,  then,  Diamond?"  said  his 
mistress. 

"It's  the  grandest  room  in  the  house,"  he  answered.  "I 
shall  be  near  the  stars,  and  yet  not  far  from  the  tops  of  the 
trees.     That's  just  what  I  like." 

I  daresay  he  thought  also,  that  it  would  be  a  nice  place 
for  North  Wind  to  call  at  in  passing;  but  he  said  nothing  of 
that  sort.  Below  him  spread  a  lake  of  green  leaves,  with 
glimpses  of  grass  here  and  there  at  the  bottom  of  it.    As  he 

[309] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

looked  down,  he  saw  a  squirrel  appear  suddenly,  and  as  sud- 
denly vanish  amongst  the  topmost  branches. 

"Aha!  little  squirrel,"  he  cried,  "my  nest  is  built  higher 
than  yours." 

"You  can  be  up  here  with  your  books  as  much  as  you 
like,"  said  his  mistress.  "I  will  have  a  little  bell  hung  at  the 
door,  which  I  can  ring  when  I  want  you.  Half-way  down  the 
stair  is  the  drawing-room." 

So  Diamond  was  installed  as  page,  and  his  new  room  got 
ready  for  him. 

It  was  very  soon  after  this  that  I  came  to  know  Diamond. 
I  was  then  a  tutor  in  a  family  whose  estate  adjoined  the  little 
property  belonging  to  The  Mound.  I  had  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  Mr.  Raymond  in  London  some  time  before,  and  was 
walking  up  the  drive  towards  the  house  to  call  upon  him  one 
fine  warm  evening,  when  I  saw  Diamond  for  the  first  time. 
He  was  sitting  at  the  foot  of  a  great  beech-tree,  a  few  yards 
from  the  road,  with  a  book  on  his  knees.  He  did  not  see  me. 
I  walked  up  behind  the  tree,  and  peeping  over  his  shoulder, 
saw  that  he  was  reading  a  fairy-book. 

"What  are  you  reading?"  I  said,  and  spoke  suddenly,  with 
the  hope  of  seeing  a  startled  little  face  look  round  at  me. 
Diamond  turned  his  head  as  quietly  as  if  he  were  only  obey- 
ing his  mother's  voice,  and  the  calmness  of  his  face  rebuked 
my  unkind  desire  and  made  me  ashamed  of  it. 

"I  am  reading  the  story  of  the  Little  Lady  and  the  Goblin 
Prince,"  said  Diamond. 

"I  am  sorry  I  don't  know  the  story,"  I  returned.  "Who 
is  it  by?" 

[310] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Mr.  Raymond  made  it." 

"Is  he  your  uncle?"  I  asked  at  a  guess. 

"No.     He's  my  master." 

"What  do  you  do  for  him?"  I  asked  respectfully. 

"Anything  he  wishes  me  to  do,"  he  answered.  "I  am  busy 
for  him  now.  He  gave  me  this  story  to  read.  He  wants  my 
opinion  upon  it." 

"Don't  you  find  it  rather  hard  to  make  up  your  mind?" 

"Oh  dear  no!  Any  story  always  tells  me  itself  what  I'm 
to  think  about  it.  Mr.  Raymond  doesn't  want  me  to  say 
whether  it  is  a  clever  story  or  not,  but  whether  I  like  it,  and 
why  I  like  it.  I  never  can  tell  what  they  call  clever  from  what 
they  call  silly,  but  I  always  know  whether  I  like  a  story  or 
not." 

"And  can  you  always  tell  why  you  like  it  or  not?" 

"No.  Very  often  I  can't  at  all.  Sometimes  I  can.  I 
always  know,  but  I  can't  always  tell  why.  Mr.  Raymond 
writes  the  stories,  and  then  tries  them  on  me.  Mother  does 
the  same  when  she  makes  jam.  She's  made  such  a  lot  of  jam 
since  we  came  here!  And  she  always  makes  me  taste  it  to 
see  if  it'll  do.  Mother  knows  by  the  face  I  make  whether  it 
will  or  not." 

At  this  moment  I  caught  sight  of  two  more  children  ap- 
proaching. One  was  a  handsome  girl,  the  other  a  pale-faced, 
awkward-looking  boy,  who  limped  much  on  one  leg.  I  with- 
drew a  little,  to  see  what  would  follow,  for  they  seemed  in 
some  consternation.  After  a  few  hurried  words,  they  went  off 
together,  and  I  pursued  my  way  to  the  house,  where  I  was  as 
kindly  received  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Raymond  as  I  could  have 

[311] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

desired.  From  them  I  learned  something  of  Diamond,  and 
was  in  consequence  the  more  glad  to  find  him,  when  I  re- 
turned, seated  in  the  same  place  as  before. 

"What  did  the  boy  and  girl  want  with  you,  Diamond?" 
I  asked. 

"They  had  seen  a  creature  that  frightened  them." 

"And  they  came  to  tell  you  about  it?" 

"They  couldn't  get  water  out  of  the  well  for  it.  So  they 
wanted  me  to  go  with  them." 

"They're  both  bigger  than  you." 

"Yes,  but  they  were  frightened  at  it." 

"And  weren't  you  frightened  at  it?" 

"No." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I'm  silly.    I'm  never  frightened  at  things." 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  old  meaning  of  the  word 
silly. 

"And  what  was  it?"  I  asked. 

"I  think  it  was  a  kind  of  an  angel — a  very  little  one.  It 
had  a  long  body  and  great  wings,  which  it  drove  about  it  so 
fast  that  they  grew  a  thin  cloud  all  round  it.  It  flew  back- 
wards and  forwards  over  the  well,  or  hung  right  in  the  middle, 
making  a  mist  of  its  wings,  as  if  its  business  was  to  take  care 
of  the  water." 

"And  what  did  you  do  to  drive  it  away?" 

"I  didn't  drive  it  away.  I  knew,  whatever  the  creature 
was,  the  well  was  to  get  water  out  of.  So  I  took  the  jug, 
dipped  it  in,  and  drew  the  water." 

"And  what  did  the  creature  do?" 

[312] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Flew  about." 

"And  it  didn't  nurt  you?" 

"No.     Why  should  it?    I  wasn't  doing  anything  wrong." 

"What  did  your  companions  say  then?" 

"They  said — 'Thank  you,  Diamond.  What  a  dear  silly 
you  are. " 

"And  weren't  you  angry  with  them?" 

"No!  WThy  should  I?  I  should  like  if  they  would  play 
with  me  a  little;  but  they  always  like  better  to  go  away  to- 
gether when  their  work  is  over.  They  never  heed  me.  I 
don't  mind  it  much,  though.  The  other  creatures  are  friendly. 
They  don't  run  away  from  me.  Only  they're  all  so  busy  with 
their  own  work,  they  don't  mind  me  much." 

"Do  you  feel  lonely,  then?" 

"Oh,  no!  When  nobody  minds  me,  I  get  into  my  nest, 
and  look  up.  And  then  the  sky  does  mind  me,  and  thinks 
about  me." 

"Where  is  your  nest?" 

He  rose,  saying  "I  will  show  you,"  and  led  me  to  the  other 
side  of  the  tree. 

There  hung  a  little  rope-ladder  from  one  of  the  lower 
boughs.  The  boy  climbed  up  the  ladder  and  got  upon  the 
bough.  Then  he  climbed  further  into  the  leafy  branches,  and 
went  out  of  sight. 

After  a  little  while,  I  heard  his  voice  coming  down  out  of 
the  tree. 

"I  am  in  my  nest  now,"  said  the  voice. 

"I  can't  see  you,"  I  returned. 

"I  can't  see  you  either,  but  I  can  see  the  first  star  peep- 

[313] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

ing  out  of  the  sky.     I  should  like  to  get  up  into  the  sky. 
Don't  you  think  I  shall,  some  day?" 

"Yes,  I  do.    Tell  me  what  more  you  see  up  there." 

"I  don't  see  anything  more,  except  a  few  leaves,  and  the 
big  sky  over  me.  It  goes  swinging  about.  The  earth  is  ail 
behind  my  back.  There  comes  another  star!  The  wind  is 
like  kisses  from  a  big  lady.  When  I  get  up  here  I  feel  as  if 
I  were  in  North  Wind's  arms." 

This  was  the  first  I  heard  of  North  Wind. 

The  whole  ways  and  look  of  the  child,  so  full  of  quiet  wis- 
dom, yet  so  ready  to  accept  the  judgment  of  others  in  his  own 
dispraise,  took  hold  of  my  heart,  and  I  felt  myself  wonderfully 
drawn  towards  him.  It  seemed  to  me,  somehow,  as  if  little 
Diamond  possessed  the  secret  of  life,  and  was  himself  what 
he  was  so  ready  to  think  the  lowest  living  thing — an  angel  of 
God  with  something  special  to  say  or  do.  A  gush  of  reverence 
came  over  me,  and  with  a  single  good  night,  I  turned  and  left 
him  in  his  nest. 

I  saw  him  often  after  this,  and  gained  so  much  of  his  con- 
fidence that  he  told  me  all  I  have  told  you.  I  cannot  pre- 
tend to  account  for  it.  I  leave  that  for  each  philosophical 
reader  to  do  after  his  own  fashion.  The  easiest  way  is  that 
of  Nanny  and  Jim,  who  said  often  to  each  other  that  Diamond 
had  a  tile  loose.  But  Mr.  Raymond  was  much  of  my  opinion 
concerning  the  boy;  while  Mrs.  Raymond  confessed  that  she 
often  rang  her  bell  just  to  have  once  more  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  the  lovely  stillness  of  the  boy's  face,  with  those  blue 
eyes  which  seemed  rather  made  for  other  people  to  look  into 
than  for  himself  to  look  out  of. 

[314] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

It  was  plainer  to  others  than  to  himself  that  he  felt  the 
desertion  of  Nanny  and  Jim.  They  appeared  to  regard  him 
as  a  mere  toy,  except  when  they  found  he  could  minister  to 
the  increase  of  their  privileges  or  indulgences,  when  they  made 
no  scruple  of  using  him — generally  with  success.  They  were 
however  well-behaved  to  a  wonderful  degree;  while  I  have 
little  doubt  that  much  of  their  good  behavior  was  owing 
to  the  unconscious  influence  of  the  boy  they  called  God's 
baby. 

One  very  strange  thing  is,  that  I  could  never  find  out 
where  he  got  some  of  his  many  songs.  At  times  they  would 
be  but  bubbles  blown  out  of  a  nursery  rhyme,  as  was  the  fol- 
lowing, which  I  heard  him  sing  one  evening  to  his  little  Dul- 
cimer. There  were  about  a  score  of  sheep  feeding  in  a  pad- 
dock near  him,  their  white  wool  dyed  a  pale  rose  in  the  light 
of  the  setting  sun.  Those  in  the  long  shadows  from  the  trees 
were  dead  white;  those  in  the  sunlight  were  half  glorified 
with  pale  rose. 

Little  Bo  Peep,  she  lost  her  sheep, 

And  didn't  know  where  to  find  them; 
They  were  over  the  height  and  out  of  sight, 

Trailing  their  tails  behind  them. 

Little  Bo  Peep  woke  out  of  her  sleep, 

Jump'd  up  and  set  out  to  find  them: 
"The  silly  things,  they've  got  no  wings, 

And  they've  left  their  trails  behind  them. 

"They've  taken  their  tails,  but  they've  left  their  trails, 

"And  so  I  shall  follow  and  find  them;" 
For  wherever  a  tail  had  dragged  a  trail, 

The  long  grass  grew  behind  them. 

[315] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

And  day's  eyes  and  butter-cups,  cow's  lips  and  crow's  feet 

Were  glittering  in  the  sun. 
She  threw  down  her  book,  and  caught  up  her  crook, 

And  after  her  sheep  did  run. 

She  ran,  and  she  ran,  and  ever  as  she  ran, 

The  grass  grew  higher  and  higher; 
Till  over  the  hill  the  sun  began 

To  set  in  a  flame  of  fire. 

She  ran  on  still — up  the  grassy  hill, 

And  the  grass  grew  higher  and  higher; 
When  she  reached  its  crown,  the  sun  was  down 

And  had  left  a  trail  of  fire. 

The  sheep  and  their  tails  were  gone,  all  gone — 

And  no  more  trail  behind  them! 
Yes,  yes!  they  were  there — long-tailed  and  fair, 

But,  alas!  she  could  not  find  them. 

Purple  and  gold,  and  rosy  and  blue, 

With  their  tails  all  white  behind  them, 
Her  sheep  they  did  run  in  the  trail  of  the  sun, 

She  saw  them,  but  could  not  find  them. 

After  the  sun,  like  clouds  they  did  run, 

But  she  knew  they  were  her  sheep : 
She  sat  down  to  cry,  and  look  up  at  the  sky, 

But  she  cried  herself  asleep. 

And  as  she  slept  the  dew  fell  fast, 

And  the  wind  blew  from  the  sky; 
And  strange  things  took  place  that  shun  the  day's  face. 

Because  they  are  sweet  and  shy. 

Nibble,  nibble,  crop !  she  heard  as  she  woke : 

A  hundred  little  lambs 
Did  pluck  and  eat  the  grass  so  sweet 

That  grew  in  the  trails  of  their  dams. 

Little  Bo  Peep  caught  up  her  crook, 

And  wiped  the  tears  that  did  blind  her; 
And  nibble  nibble  crop !  without  a  stop, 

The  lambs  came  eating  behind  her. 

[316] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

Home,  home  she  came,  both  tired  and  lame, 

With  three  times  as  many  sheep. 
In  a  month  or  more,  they'll  be  as  big  as  before, 

And  then  she'll  laugh  in  her  sleep. 

But  what  would  you  say,  if  one  fine  day, 

When  they've  got  their  bushiest  tails, 
Their  grown  up  game  should  be  just  the  same, 

And  she  have  to  follow  their  trails? 

Never  weep,  Bo  Peep,  though  you  lose  your  sheep, 

And  do  not  know  where  to  find  them; 
'Tis  after  the  sun  the  mothers  have  run, 

And  there  are  their  lambs  behind  them. 

I  confess  again  to  having  touched  up  a  little,  but  it  loses 
far  more  in  Diamond's  sweet  voice  singing  it  than  it  gains  by 
a  rhyme  here  and  there. 

Some  of  them  were  out  of  books  Mr.  Raymond  had  given 
him.  These  he  always  knew,  but  about  the  others  he  could 
seldom  tell.  Sometimes  he  would  say,  "I  made  that  one;" 
but  generally  he  would  say,  "I  don't  know;  I  found  it  some- 
where;"  or  "I  got  it  at  the  back  of  the  north  wind." 

One  evening  I  found  him  sitting  on  the  grassy  slope  under 
the  house,  with  his  Dulcimer  in  his  arms  and  his  little  brother 
rolling  on  the  grass  beside  them.  He  was  chanting  in  his  usual 
way,  more  like  the  sound  of  a  brook  than  anything  else  I  can 
think  of.    When  I  went  up  to  them  he  ceased  his  chant. 

"Do  go  on,  Diamond.    Don't  mind  me,"  I  said. 

He  began  again  at  once.  While  he  sang,  Nanny  and  Jim 
sat  a  little  way  off,  one  hemming  a  pocket-handkerchief,  and 
the  other  reading  a  story  to  her,  but  they  never  heeded  Dia- 
mond. This  is  as  near  what  he  sang  as  I  can  recollect,  or 
reproduce  rather. 

[317] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

What  would  you  see  if  I  took  you  up 

To  my  little  nest  in  the  air? 
You  would  see  the  sky  like  a  clear  blue  cup 

Turned  upside  downwards  there. 

What  would  you  do  if  I  took  you  there 

To  my  little  nest  in  the  tree? 
My  child  with  cries  would  trouble  the  air, 

To  get  what  she  could  but  see. 

What  would  you  get  in  the  top  of  the  tree 

For  all  your  crying  and  grief? 
Not  a  star  would  you  clutch  of  all  you  see — 

You  could  only  gather  a  leaf. 

But  when  you  had  lost  your  greedy  grief, 

Content  to  see  from  afar, 
You  would  find  in  your  hand  a  withering  leaf, 

In  your  heart  a  shining  star. 

As  Diamond  went  on  singing,  it  grew  very  dark,  and  just 
as  he  ceased  there  came  a  great  flash  of  lightning,  that  blinded 
us  all  for  a  moment.  Dulcimer  crowed  with  pleasure;  but 
when  the  roar  of  thunder  came  after  it,  the  little  brother  gave 
a  loud  cry  of  terror.  Nanny  and  Jim  came  running  up  to  us, 
pale  with  fear.  Diamond's  face  too  was  paler  than  usual,  but 
with  delight.  Some  of  the  glory  seemed  to  have  clung  to  it, 
and  remained  shining. 

"You're  not  frightened — are  you,  Diamond?"  I  said. 

"No.  Why  should  I  be?"  he  answered  with  his  usual 
question,  looking  up  in  my  face  with  calm  shining  eyes. 

"He  ain't  got  sense  to  be  frightened,"  said  Nanny,  going 
up  to  him  and  giving  him  a  pitying  hug. 

"Perhaps  there's  more  sense  in  not  being  frightened, 
Nanny,"  I  returned.  "Do  you  think  the  lightning  can  do 
as  it  likes?" 

[318] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"It  might  kill  you,"  said  Jim. 

"Oh  no,  it  mightn't!"  said  Diamond. 

As  he  spoke  there  came  another  great  flash,  and  a  tearing 
crack. 

"There's  a  tree  struck!"  I  said;  and  when  we  looked 
round,  after  the  blinding  of  the  flash  had  left  our  eyes,  we  saw 
a  huge  bough  of  the  beech-tree  in  which  was  Diamond's  nest, 
hanging  to  the  ground  like  the  broken  wing  of  a  bird. 

"There!"  cried  Nanny;  "I  told  you  so.  If  you  had  been 
up  there  you  see  what  would  have  happened,  you  little  silly!" 

"No,  I  don't,"  said  Diamond,  and  began  to  sing  to  Dulci- 
mer. All  I  could  hear  of  the  song,  for  the  other  children  were 
going  on  with  their  chatter,  was — 

The  clock  struck  one, 
And  the  mouse  came  down. 
Dickery,  dickery,  dock! 

Then  there  came  a  blast  of  wind,  and  the  rain  followed  in 
straight-pouring  lines,  as  if  out  of  a  watering-pot.  Diamond 
jumped  up  with  his  little  Dulcimer  in  his  arms,  and  Nanny 
caught  up  the  little  boy,  and  they  ran  for  the  cottage.  Jim 
vanished  with  a  double  shuffle,  and  I  went  into  the  house. 

When  I  came  out  again  to  return  home,  the  clouds  were 
gone,  and  the  evening  sky  glimmered  through  the  trees,  blue, 
and  pale-green  towards  the  west,  I  turned  my  steps  a  little 
aside  to  look  at  the  stricken  beech.  I  saw  the  bough  torn 
from  the  stem,  and  that  was  all  the  twilight  would  allow  me 
to  see.  WTiile  I  stood  gazing,  down  from  the  sky  came  a 
sound  of  singing,  but  the  voice  was  neither  of  lark  nor  of 

[319  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

nightingale:   it  was  sweeter  than  either:   it  was  the  voice  of 
Diamond,  up  in  his  airy  nest: — 

The  lightning  and  thunder, 

They  go  and  they  come; 
But  the  stars  and  the  stillness 

Are  always  at  home. 

And  then  the  voice  ceased. 

"Good  night,  Diamond,"  I  said. 

"Good  night,  sir,"  answered  Diamond. 

As  I  walked  away  pondering,  I  saw  the  great  black  top  of 
the  beech  swaying  about  against  the  sky  in  an  upper  wind, 
and  heard  the  murmur  as  of  many  dim  half-articulate  voices 
filling  the  solitude  around  Diamond's  nest. 


[320] 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 
DIAMOND  QUESTIONS  NORTH  WIND 

MY  readers  will  not  wonder  that,  after  this,  I  did  my 
very  best  to  gain  the  friendship  of  Diamond.  Nor 
did  I  find  this  at  all  difficult,  the  child  was  so  ready 
to  trust.  Upon  one  subject  alone  was  he  reticent — the  story 
of  his  relations  with  North  Wind.  I  fancy  he  could  not  quite 
make  up  his  mind  what  to  think  of  them.  At  all  events  it 
was  some  little  time  before  he  trusted  me  with  this,  only 
then  he  told  me  everything.  If  I  could  not  regard  it  all  in 
exactly  the  same  light  as  he  did,  I  was,  while  guiltless  of  the 
least  pretence,  fully  sympathetic,  and  he  was  satisfied  with- 
out demanding  of  me  any  theory  of  difficult  points  involved. 
I  let  him  see  plainly  enough,  that  whatever  might  be  the 
explanation  of  the  marvellous  experience,  I  would  have  given 
much  for  a  similar  one  myself. 

On  an  evening  soon  after  the  thunderstorm,  in  a  late  twi- 
light, with  a  half-moon  high  in  the  heavens,  I  came  upon 
Diamond  in  the  act  of  climbing  by  his  little  ladder  into  the 
beech-tree. 

"What  are  you  always  going  up  there  for,  Diamond?"  I 
heard  Nanny  ask,  rather  rudely,  I  thought. 

"Sometimes  for  one  thing,  sometimes  for  another,  Nanny," 
answered  Diamond,  looking  skywards  as  he  climbed. 

"You'll  break  your  neck  some  day,"  she  said. 

[321] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I'm  going  up  to  look  at  the  moon  to-night,"  he  added, 
without  heeding  her  remark. 

"You'll  see  the  moon  just  as  well  down  here,"  she  returned. 

"I  don't  think  so." 

"You'll  be  no  nearer  to  her  up  there." 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  shall.  I  must  be  nearer  her,  you  know.  I  wish  I 
could  dream  as  pretty  dreams  about  her  as  you  can,  Nanny." 

"You  silly!  you  never  have  done  about  that  dream.  I 
never  dreamed  but  that  one,  and  it  was  nonsense  enough, 
I'm  sure." 

"It  wasn't  nonsense.  It  was  a  beautiful  dream — and  a 
funny  one  too,  both  in  one." 

"But  what's  the  good  of  talking  about  it  that  way,  when 
you  know  it  was  only  a  dream?     Dreams  ain't  true." 

"That  one  was  true,  Nanny.  You  know  it  was.  Didn't 
you  come  to  grief  for  doing  what  you  were  told  not  to  do? 
And  isn't  that  true?" 

"I  can't  get  any  sense  into  him,"  exclaimed  Nanny,  with 
an  expression  of  mild  despair.  "Do  you  really  believe,  Dia- 
mond, that  there's  a  house  in  the  moon,  with  a  beautiful 
lady,  and  a  crooked  old  man  and  dusters  in  it?" 

"If  there  isn't,  there's  something  better,"  he  answered, 
and  vanished  in  the  leaves  over  our  heads. 

I  went  into  the  house,  where  I  visited  often  in  the  even- 
ings. When  I  came  out,  there  was  a  little  wind  blowing, 
very  pleasant  after  the  heat  of  the  day,  for  although  it  was 
late  summer  now  it  was  still  hot.  The  tree-tops  were  swing- 
ing about  in  it.  I  took  my  way  past  the  beech,  and  called 
up  to  see  if  Diamond  were  still  in  his  nest  in  its  rocking  head. 

[322] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Are  you  there,  Diamond?"  I  said. 

"Yes,  sir,"  came  his  clear  voice  in  reply. 

"Isn't  it  growing  too  dark  for  you  to  get  down  safely?" 

"Oh,  no,  sir — if  I  take  time  to  it.  I  know  my  way  so 
well,  and  never  let  go  with  one  hand  till  I've  a  good  hold  with 
the  other." 

"Do  be  careful,"  I  insisted — foolishly,  seeing  the  boy  was 
as  careful  as  he  could  be  already. 

"I'm  coming,"  he  returned.  "I've  got  all  the  moon  I 
want  to-night." 

I  heard  a  rustling  and  a  rustling  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer.  Three  or  four  minutes  elapsed,  and  he  appeared  at 
length  creeping  down  his  little  ladder.  I  took  him  in  my 
arms,  and  set  him  on  the  ground. 

"Thank  you  sir,"  he  said.  "That's  the  north  wind  blow- 
ing, isn't  it,  sir?" 

"I  can't  tell,"  I  answered.  "It  feels  cool  and  kind,  and 
I  think  it  may  be.  But  I  couldn't  be  sure  except  it  were 
stronger;  for  a  gentle  wind  might  turn  any  way  amongst  the 
trunks  of  the  trees." 

"I  shall  know  when  I  get  up  to  my  own  room,"  said 
Diamond.  "I  think  I  hear  my  mistress's  bell.  Good  night, 
sir. 

He  ran  to  the  house,  and  I  went  home. 

His  mistress  had  rung  for  him  only  to  send  him  to  bed, 

for  she  was  very  careful  over  him,  and  I  daresay  thought  he 

was  not  looking  well.     When  he  reached  his  own  room,  he 

opened  both  his  windows,  one  of  which  looked  to  the  north 

and  the  other  to  the  east,  to  find  how  the  wind  blew.    It  blew 

[323  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

right  in  at  the  northern  window.  Diamond  was  very  glad, 
for  he  thought  perhaps  North  Wind  herself  would  come  now: 
a  real  north  wind  had  never  blown  all  the  time  since  he  left 
London.  But,  as  she  always  came  of  herself,  and  never  when 
he  was  looking  for  her,  and  indeed  almost  never  when  he  was 
thinking  of  her,  he  shut  the  east  window,  and  went  to  bed. 
Perhaps  some  of  my  readers  may  wonder  that  he  could  go  to 
sleep  with  such  an  expectation;  and,  indeed,  if  I  had  not 
known  him,  I  should  have  wondered  at  it  myself;  but  it  was 
one  of  his  peculiarities,  and  seemed  nothing  strange  in  him. 
He  was  so  full  of  quietness  that  he  could  go  to  sleep  almost 
any  time,  if  he  only  composed  himself  and  let  the  sleep  come. 
This  time  he  went  fast  asleep  as  usual. 

But  he  woke  in  the  dim  blue  night.  The  moon  had  van- 
ished.   He  thought  he  heard  a  knocking  at  his  door. 

"Somebody  wants  me,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  jumping 
out  of  bed,  ran  to  open  it. 

But  there  was  no  one  there.  He  closed  it  again,  and,  the 
noise  still  continuing,  found  that  another  door  in  the  room  was 
rattling.  It  belonged  to  a  closet,  he  thought,  but  he  had 
never  been  able  to  open  it.  The  wind  blowing  in  at  the  win- 
dow must  be  shaking  it.    He  would  go  and  see  if  it  was  so. 

The  door  now  opened  quite  easily,  but  to  his  surprise,  in- 
stead of  a  closet  he  found  a  long  narrow  room.  The  moon, 
which  was  sinking  in  the  west,  shone  in  at  an  open  window 
at  the  further  end.  The  room  was  low  with  a  coved  ceiling, 
and  occupied  the  whole  top  of  the  house,  immediately  under 
the  roof.  It  was  quite  empty.  The  yellow  light  of  the  half- 
moon  streamed  over  the  dark  floor.     He  was  so  delighted  at 

[324] 


©DM£K 


On  the  top  of  the  great  beech-tree. 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

the  discovery  of  the  strange  desolate  moonlit  place  close  to 
his  own  snug  little  room,  that  he  began  to  dance  and  skip 
about  the  floor.  The  wind  came  in  through  the  door  he  had 
left  open,  and  blew  about  him  as  he  danced,  and  he  kept 
turning  towards  it  that  it  might  blow  in  his  face.  He  kept 
picturing  to  himself  the  many  places,  lovely  and  desolate,  the 
hill-sides  and  farm-yards  and  tree-tops  and  meadows,  over 
which  it  had  blown  on  its  way  to  The  Mound.  And  as  he 
danced,  he  grew  more  and  more  delighted  with  the  motion 
and  the  wind;  his  feet  grew  stronger,  and  his  body  lighter, 
until  at  length  it  seemed  as  if  he  were  borne  up  on  the  air, 
and  could  almost  fly.  So  strong  did  his  feeling  become,  that 
at  last  he  began  to  doubt  whether  he  was  not  in  one  of  those 
precious  dreams  he  had  so  often  had,  in  which  he  floated  about 
on  the  air  at  will.  But  something  made  him  look  up,  and  to 
his  unspeakable  delight,  he  found  his  uplifted  hands  lying  in 
those  of  North  Wind,  who  was  dancing  with  him,  round  and 
round  the  long  bare  room,  her  hair  now  falling  to  the  floor, 
now  filling  the  arched  ceiling,  her  eyes  shining  on  him  like 
twinkling  stars,  and  the  sweetest  of  grand  smiles  playing 
breezily  about  her  beautiful  mouth.  She  was,  as  so  often 
before,  of  the  height  of  a  rather  tall  lady.  She  did  not  stoop 
in  order  to  dance  with  him,  but  held  his  hands  high  in  hers. 
When  he  saw  her,  he  gave  one  spring,  and  his  arms  were 
about  her  neck,  and  her  arms  holding  him  to  her  bosom.  The 
same  moment  she  swept  with  him  through  the  open  window 
in  at  which  the  moon  was  shining,  made  a  circuit  like  a  bird 
about  to  alight,  and  settled  with  him  in  his  nest  on  the  top 
of  the  great  beech-tree.     There  she  placed  him  on  her  lap 

[325  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  began  to  hush  him  as  if  he  were  her  own  baby,  and  Dia- 
mond was  so  entirely  happy  that  he  did  not  care  to  speak  a 
word.  At  length,  however,  he  found  that  he  was  going  to 
sleep,  and  that  would  be  to  lose  so  much,  that,  pleasant  as  it 
was,  he  could  not  consent. 

"Please,  dear  North  Wind,"  he  said,  "I  am  so  happy  that 
I'm  afraid  it's  a  dream.  How  am  I  to  know  that  it's  not  a 
dream?" 

"What  does  it  matter?"  returned  North  Wind. 

"I  should  cry,"  said  Diamond. 

"But  why  should  you  cry?  The  dream,  if  it  is  a  dream, 
is  a  pleasant  one — is  it  not?" 

"That's  just  why  I  want  it  to  be  true." 

"Have  you  forgotten  what  you  said  to  Nanny  about  her 
dream?" 

"It's  not  for  the  dream  itself — I  mean,  it's  not  for  the 
pleasure  of  it,"  answered  Diamond,  "for  I  have  that,  whether 
it  be  a  dream  or  not;  it's  for  you,  North  Wind:  I  can't  bear 
to  find  it  a  dream,  because  then  I  should  lose  you.  You 
would  be  nobody  then,  and  I  could  not  bear  that.  You  ain't 
a  dream,  are  you,  dear  North  Wind?  Do  say  No,  else  I 
shall  cry,  and  come  awake,  and  you'll  be  gone  for  ever.  I 
daren't  dream  about  you  once  again  if  you  ain't  anybody." 

"I'm  either  not  a  dream,  or  there's  something  better  that's 
not  a  dream,  Diamond,"  said  North  Wind,  in  a  rather  sor- 
rowful tone,  he  thought. 

"But  it's  not  something  better — it's  you  I  want,  North 
Wind,"  he  persisted,  already  beginning  to  cry  a  little. 

She  made  no  answer,  but  rose  with  him  in  her  arms  and 

[  326] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

sailed  away  over  the  tree-tops  till  they  came  to  a  meadow, 
where  a  flock  of  sheep  was  feeding. 

"Do  you  remember  what  the  song  you  were  singing  a  week 
ago  says  about  Bo-Peep — how  she  lost  her  sheep,  but  got 
twice  as  many  lambs?"  asked  North  Wind,  sitting  down  on 
the  grass,  and  placing  him  in  her  lap  as  before. 

"Oh  yes,  I  do,  well  enough,"  answered  Diamond;  "but 
I  never  just  quite  liked  that  rhyme." 

"Why  not,  child?" 

"Because  it  seems  to  say  one's  as  good  as  another,  or  two 
new  ones  are  better  than  one  that's  lost.  I've  been  thinking 
about  it  a  great  deal,  and  it  seems  to  me  that  although  any 
one  sixpence  is  as  good  as  any  other  sixpence,  not  twenty 
lambs  would  do  instead  of  one  sheep  whose  face  you  knew. 
Somehow,  when  once  you've  looked  into  anybody's  eyes,  right 
deep  down  into  them,  I  mean,  nobody  will  do  for  that  one 
any  more.  Nobody,  ever  so  beautiful  or  so  good,  will  make 
up  for  that  one  going  out  of  sight.  So  you  see,  North  Wind, 
I  can't  help  being  frightened  to  think  that  perhaps  I  am  only 
dreaming,  and  you  are  nowhere  at  all.  Do  tell  me  that  you 
are  my  own  real  beautiful  North  Wind." 

Again  she  rose,  and  shot  herself  into  the  air,  as  if  uneasy 
because  she  could  not  answer  him;  and  Diamond  lay  quiet  in 
her  arms,  waiting  for  what  she  would  say.  He  tried  to  see  up 
into  her  face,  for  he  was  dreadfully  afraid  she  was  not  answer- 
ing him  because  she  could  not  say  that  she  was  not  a  dream; 
but  she  had  let  her  hair  fall  all  over  her  face  so  that  he  could 
not  see  it.    This  frightened  him  still  more. 

"Do  speak,  North  Wind,"  he  said  at  last. 

[327] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  never  speak  when  I  have  nothing  to  say,"  she  replied. 

"Then  I  do  think  you  must  be  a  real  North  Wind,  and 
no  dream,"  said  Diamond. 

"But  I'm  looking  for  something  to  say  all  the  time." 

"But  I  don't  want  you  to  say  what's  hard  to  find.  If  you 
were  to  say  one  word  to  comfort  me  that  wasn't  true,  then 
I  should  know  you  must  be  a  dream,  for  a  great  beautiful  lady 
like  you  could  never  tell  a  lie." 

"But  she  mightn't  know  how  to  say  what  she  had  to  say, 
so  that  a  little  boy  like  you  would  understand  it,"  said  North 
Wind.  "Here,  let  us  get  down  again,  and  I  will  try  to  tell  you 
what  I  think.  You  mustn't  suppose  I  am  able  to  answer  all 
your  questions,  though.  There  are  a  great  many  things  I 
don't  understand  more  than  you  do." 

She  descended  on  a  grassy  hillock,  in  the  midst  of  a  wild 
furzy  common.  There  was  a  rabbit-warren  underneath,  and 
some  of  the  rabbits  came  out  of  their  holes,  in  the  moonlight, 
looking  very  sober  and  wise,  just  like  patriarchs  standing  in 
their  tent-doors,  and  looking  about  them  before  going  to  bed. 
When  they  saw  North  Wind,  instead  of  turning  round  and 
vanishing  again  with  a  thump  of  their  heels,  they  cantered 
slowly  up  to  her  and  snuffed  all  about  her  with  their  long  upper 
lips,  which  moved  every  way  at  once.  That  was  their  way  of 
kissing  her;  and,  as  she  talked  to  Diamond,  she  would  every 
now  and  then  stroke  down  their  furry  backs,  or  lift  and  play 
with  their  long  ears.  They  would,  Diamond  thought,  have 
leaped  upon  her  lap,  but  that  he  was  there  already. 

"I  think,"  said  she,  after  they  had  been  sitting  silent  for  a 
while,  "that  if  I  were  only  a  dream,  you  would  not  have  been 

[328] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

able  to  love  me  so.  You  love  me  when  you  are  not  with  me, 
don't  you?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  answered  Diamond,  stroking  her  hand. 
"I  see!  I  see!  How  could  I  be  able  to  love  you  as  I  do  if 
you  weren't  there  at  all,  you  know?  Besides,  I  couldn't  be 
able  to  dream  anything  half  so  beautiful  all  out  of  my  own 
head;  or  if  I  did,  I  couldn't  love  a  fancy  of  my  own  like  that, 
could  I?" 

"I  think  not.  You  might  have  loved  me  in  a  dream, 
dreamily,  and  forgotten  me  when  you  woke,  I  daresay,  but 
not  loved  me  like  a  real  being  as  you  love  me.  Even  then, 
I  don't  think  you  could  dream  anything  that  hadn't  some- 
thing real  like  it  somewhere.  But  you've  seen  me  in  many 
shapes,  Diamond:    you  remember  I  was  a  wolf  once — don't 

you?" 

"Oh  yes — a  good  wolf  that  frightened  a  naughty  drunken 
nurse." 

"Well,  suppose  I  were  to  turn  ugly,  would  you  rather  I 
weren't  a  dream  then?" 

"Yes;  for  I  should  know  that  you  were  beautiful  inside 
all  the  same.  You  would  love  me,  and  I  should  love  you  all 
the  same.  I  shouldn't  like  you  to  look  ugly,  you  know. 
But  I  shouldn't  believe  it  a  bit." 

"Not  if  you  saw  it?" 

"No,  not  if  I  saw  it  ever  so  plain." 

"There's  my  Diamond!    I  will  tell  you  all  I  know  about 

it  then.     I  don't  think  I  am  just  what  you  fancy  me  to  be. 

I  have  to  shape  myself  various  ways  to  various  people.    But 

the  heart  of  me  is  true.    People  call  me  by  dreadful  names, 

[329] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  think  they  know  all  about  me.  But  they  don't.  Some- 
times they  call  me  Bad  Fortune,  sometimes  Evil  Chance, 
sometimes  Ruin;  and  they  have  another  name  for  me  which 
they  think  the  most  dreadful  of  all." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Diamond,  smiling  up  in  her  face. 

"I  won't  tell  you  that  name.  Do  you  remember  having 
to  go  through  me  to  get  into  the  country  at  my  back?" 

"Oh  yes,  I  do.  How  cold  you  were,  North  Wind!  and  so 
white,  all  but  your  lovely  eyes!  My  heart  grew  like  a  lump 
of  ice,  and  then  I  forgot  for  a  while." 

"You  were  very  near  knowing  what  they  call  me  then. 
Would  you  be  afraid  of  me  if  you  had  to  go  through  me 

9  55 

again  r 

"No.  Why  should  I?  Indeed  I  should  be  glad  enough,  if 
it  was  only  to  get  another  peep  of  the  country  at  your  back." 

"You've  never  seen  it  yet." 

"Haven't  I,  North  Wind?  Oh!  I'm  so  sorry!  I  thought  I 
had.     What  did  I  see  then?" 

"Only  a  picture  of  it.  The  real  country  at  my  real  back 
is  ever  so  much  more  beautiful  than  that.  You  shall  see  it 
one  day — perhaps  before  very  long." 

"Do  they  sing  songs  there?" 

"Don't  you  remember  the  dream  you  had  about  the  little 
boys  that  dug  for  the  stars?" 

"Yes,  that  I  do.  I  thought  you  must  have  had  something 
to  do  with  that  dream,  it  was  so  beautiful." 

"Yes;   I  gave  you  that  dream." 

"Oh!  thank  you.  Did  you  give  Nanny  her  dream  too — 
about  the  moon  and  the  bees?" 

[330] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"  Yes.    I  was  the  lady  that  sat  at  the  window  of  the  moon." 

"Oh,  thank  you.  I  was  almost  sure  you  had  something  to 
do  with  that  too.  And  did  you  tell  Mr.  Raymond  the  story 
about  the  Princess  Daylight?" 

"I  believe  I  had  something  to  do  with  it.  At  all  events 
he  thought  about  it  one  night  when  he  couldn't  sleep.  But 
I  want  to  ask  you  whether  you  remember  the  song  the  boy- 
angels  sang  in  that  dream  of  yours." 

"No.    I  couldn't  keep  it,  do  what  I  would,  and  I  did  try." 

"That  was  my  fault." 

"How  could  that  be,  North  Wind?" 

"Because  I  didn't  know  it  properly  myself,  and  so  I 
couldn't  teach  it  to  you.  I  could  only  make  a  rough  guess  at 
something  like  what  it  would  be,  and  so  I  wasn't  able  to  make 
you  dream  it  hard  enough  to  remember  it.  Nor  would  I  have 
done  so  if  I  could,  for  it  was  not  correct.  I  made  you  dream 
pictures  of  it,  though.  But  you  will  hear  the  very  song  itself 
when  you  do  get  to  the  back  of " 

"My  own  dear  North  Wind,"  said  Diamond,  finishing  the 
sentence  for  her,  and  kissing  the  arm  that  held  him  leaning 
against  her. 

"And  now  we've  settled  all  this — for  the  time,  at  least," 
said  North  WTind. 

"But  I  can't  feel  quite  sure  yet,"  said  Diamond. 

"You  must  wait  a  while  for  that.  Meantime  you  may  be 
hopeful,  and  content  not  to  be  quite  sure.  Come  now,  I  will 
take  you  home  again,  for  it  won't  do  to  tire  you  too  much." 

"Oh!  no,  no.    I'm  not  the  least  tired,"  pleaded  Diamond. 

"It  is  better,  though." 

[331] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"Very  well;  if  you  wish  it,"  yielded  Diamond  with  a  sigh. 

"You  are  a  dear  good  boy,"  said  North  Wind.  "I  will 
come  for  you  again  to-morrow  night  and  take  you  out  for  a 
longer  time.  We  shall  make  a  little  journey  together,  in  fact. 
We  shall  start  earlier;  and  as  the  moon  will  be  later,  we  shall 
have  a  little  moonlight  all  the  way." 

She  rose,  and  swept  over  the  meadow  and  the  trees.  In 
a  few  moments  the  Mound  appeared  below  them.  She  sank 
a  little,  and  floated  in  at  the  window  of  Diamond's  room. 
There  she  laid  him  on  his  bed,  covered  him  over,  and  in  a 
moment  he  was  lapt  in  a  dreamless  sleep. 


[  332  ] 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 
ONCE  MORE 

THE  next  night  Diamond  was  seated  by  his  open  win- 
dow, with  his  head  on  his  hand,  rather  tired,  but  so 
eagerly  waiting  for  the  promised  visit  that  he  was 
afraid  he  could  not  sleep.  But  he  started  suddenly,  and  found 
that  he  had  been  already  asleep.  He  rose,  and  looking  out  of 
the  window  saw  something  white  against  his  beech-tree.  It 
was  North  Wind.  She  was  holding  by  one  hand  to  a  top 
branch.  Her  hair  and  her  garments  went  floating  away  be- 
hind her  over  the  tree,  whose  top  was  swaying  about  while 
the  others  were  still. 

"Are  you  ready,  Diamond?"  she  asked. 
"Yes,"  answered  Diamond,  "quite  ready." 
In  a  moment  she  was  at  the  window,  and  her  arms  came 
in  and  took  him.  She  sailed  away  so  swiftly  that  he  could  at 
first  mark  nothing  but  the  speed  with  which  the  clouds  above 
and  the  dim  earth  below  went  rushing  past.  But  soon  he 
began  to  see  that  the  sky  was  very  lovely,  with  mottled 
clouds  all  about  the  moon,  on  which  she  threw  faint  colors 
like  those  of  mother-of-pearl,  or  an  opal.  The  night  was 
warm,  and  in  the  lady's  arms  he  did  not  feel  the  wind  which 
down  below  was  making  waves  in  the  ripe  corn,  and  ripples  on 
the  rivers  and  lakes.  At  length  they  descended  on  the  side  of 
an  open  earthy  hill,  just  where,  from  beneath  a  stone,  a 
spring  came  bubbling  out. 

[333] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

"I  am  going  to  take  you  along  this  little  brook,"  said 
North  Wind.  "I  am  not  wanted  for  anything  else  to-night, 
so  I  can  give  you  a  treat." 

She  stooped  over  the  stream,  and  holding  Diamond  down 
close  to  the  surface  of  it,  glided  along  level  with  its  flow  as  it 
ran  down  the  hill.  And  the  song  of  the  brook  came  up  into 
Diamond's  ears,  and  grew  and  grew  and  changed  with  every 
turn.  It  seemed  to  Diamond  to  be  singing  the  story  of  its 
life  to  him.  And  so  it  was.  It  began  with  a  musical  tinkle 
which  changed  to  a  babble  and  then  to  a  gentle  rushing. 
Sometimes  its  song  would  almost  cease,  and  then  break  out 
again,  tinkle,  babble,  and  rush,  all  at  once.  At  the  bottom  of 
the  hill  they  came  to  a  small  river,  into  which  the  brook 
flowed  with  a  muffled  but  merry  sound.  Along  the  surface  of 
the  river,  darkly  clear  below  them  in  the  moonlight,  they 
floated;  now,  where  it  widened  out  into  a  little  lake,  they 
would  hover  for  a  moment  over  a  bed  of  water-lilies,  and 
watch  them  swing  about,  folded  in  sleep,  as  the  water  on 
which  they  leaned  swayed  in  the  presence  of  North  Wind; 
and  now  they  would  watch  the  fishes  asleep  among  their  roots 
below.  Sometimes  she  would  hold  Diamond  over  a  deep  hol- 
low curving  into  the  bank,  that  he  might  look  far  into  the  cool 
stillness.  Sometimes  she  would  leave  the  river  and  sweep 
across  a  clover-field.  The  bees  were  all  at  home,  and  the 
clover  was  asleep.  Then  she  would  return  and  follow  the 
river.  It  grew  wider  and  wider  as  it  went.  Now  the  armies 
of  wheat  and  of  oats  would  hang  over  its  rush  from  the  opposite 
banks;  now  the  willows  would  dio  low  branches  in  its  still 
waters;    and  now  it  would  lead  them  through  stately  trees 

[334  1 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

and  grassy  banks  into  a  lovely  garden,  where  the  roses  and 
lilies  were  asleep,  the  tender  flowers  quite  folded  up,  and  only 
a  few  wide-awake  and  sending  out  their  life  in  sweet  strong 
odors.  Wider  and  wider  grew  the  stream,  until  they  came 
upon  boats  lying  along  its  banks,  which  rocked  a  little  in  the 
flutter  of  North  Wind's  garments.  Then  came  houses  on  the 
banks,  each  standing  in  a  lovely  lawn,  with  grand  trees;  and 
in  parts  the  river  was  so  high  that  some  of  the  grass  and  the 
roots  of  some  of  the  trees  were  under  water,  and  Diamond,  as 
they  glided  through  between  the  stems,  could  see  the  grass  at 
the  bottom  of  the  water.  Then  they  would  leave  the  river 
and  float  about  and  over  the  houses,  one  after  another — 
beautiful  rich  houses,  which,  like  fine  trees,  had  taken  cen- 
turies to  grow.  There  was  scarcely  a  light  to  be  seen,  and 
not  a  movement  to  be  heard:  all  the  people  in  them  lay  fast 
asleep. 

"What  a  lot  of  dreams  they  must  be  dreaming!"  said 
Diamond. 

"Yes,"  returned  North  Wind.  "They  can't  surely  be  all 
lies — can  they?" 

"I  should  think  it  depends  a  little  on  who  dreams  them," 
suggested  Diamond. 

"Yes,"  said  North  Wind.     "The  people  who  think  lies, 

and  do  lies,  are  very  likely  to  dream  lies.     But  the  people 

who  love  what  is  true  will  surely  now  and  then  dream  true 

things.     But  then  something  depends  on  whether  the  dreams 

are  home-grown,  or  whether  the  seed  of  them  is  blown  over 

somebody  else's  garden-wall.    Ah!  there's  some  one  awake  in 

this  house!" 

[  335  ] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

They  were  floating  past  a  window  in  which  a  light  was 
burning.  Diamond  heard  a  moan,  and  looked  up  anxiously  in 
North  Wind's  face. 

"It's  a  lady,"  said  North  Wind.  "She  can't  sleep  for 
pain." 

"Couldn't  you  do  something  for  her?"  said  Diamond. 

"No,  I  can't.     But  you  could." 

"What  could  I  do?" 

"Sing  a  little  song  to  her." 

"She  wouldn't  hear  me." 

"I  will  take  you  in,  and  then  she  will  hear  you." 

"But  that  would  be  rude,  wouldn't  it?  You  can  go  where 
you  please,  of  course,  but  I  should  have  no  business  in  her 
room." 

"You  may  trust  me,  Diamond.  I  shall  take  as  good  care 
of  the  lady  as  of  you.    The  window  is  open.    Come." 

By  a  shaded  lamp,  a  lady  was  seated  in  a  white  wrapper, 
trying  to  read,  but  moaning  every  minute.  North  Wind  floated 
behind  her  chair,  set  Diamond  down,  and  told  him  to  sing 
something.  He  was  a  little  frightened,  but  he  thought  a 
while,  and  then  sang: — 

The  sun  is  gone  down, 

And  the  moon's  in  the  sky; 
But  the  sun  will  come  up, 

And  the  moon  be  laid  by. 

The  flower  is  asleep, 

But  it  is  net  dead; 
When  the  morning  shines, 

It  will  lift  its  head. 

[336] 


AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

When  winter  comes, 

It  will  die — no,  no; 
It  will  only  hide 

From  the  frost  and  the  snow. 


Sure  is  the  summer, 

Sure  is  the  sun; 
The  night  and  the  winter 

Are  shadows  that  run. 


The  lady  never  lifted  her  eyes  from  her  book,  or  her  head 
from  her  hand. 

As  soon  as  Diamond  had  finished,  North  Wind  lifted  him 
and  carried  him  away. 

"Didn't  the  lady  hear  me?"  asked  Diamond,  when  they 
were  once  more  floating  down  with  the  river. 

"Oh,  yes,  she  heard  you,"  answered  North  Wind. 

"Was  she  frightened  then?'* 

"Oh,  no." 

"Why  didn't  she  look  to  see  who  it  was?" 

"She  didn't  know  you  were  there." 

"How  could  she  hear  me  then?" 

"She  didn't  hear  you  with  her  ears." 

"What  did  she  hear  me  with?" 

"With  her  heart." 

"Wliere  did  she  think  the  words  came  from?" 

"She  thought  they  came  out  of  the  book  she  was  reading. 
She  will  search  all  through  it  to-morrow  to  find  them,  and 
won't  be  able  to  understand  it  at  all." 

"Oh,  what  fun!"  said  Diamond.    "What  will  she  do?" 

"I  can  tell  you  what  she  won't  do:   she'll  never  forget  the 

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AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

meaning  of  them;  and  she'll  never  be  able  to  remember  the 
words  of  them." 

"If  she  sees  them  in  Mr.  Raymond's  book,  it  will  puzzle 
her,  won't  it?" 

"  Yes,  that  it  will.     She  will  never  be  able  to  understand  it." 

"Until  she  gets  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,"  suggested 
Diamond. 

"Until  she  gets  to  the  back  of  the  north  wind,"  assented 
the  lady. 

"Oh!"  cried  Diamond,  "I  know  now  where  we  are.  Oh! 
do  let  me  go  into  the  old  garden,  and  into  mother's  room, 
and  Diamond's  stall.  I  wonder  if  the  hole  is  at  the  back  of 
my  bed  still.  I  should  like  to  stay  there  all  the  rest  of  the 
night.  It  won't  take  you  long  to  get  home  from  here,  will  it, 
North  Wind?" 

"No,"  she  answered;  "you  shall  stay  as  long  as  you  like." 

"Oh,  how  jolly!"  cried  Diamond,  as  North  Wind  sailed 
over  the  house  with  him,  and  set  him  down  on  the  lawn  at 
the  back. 

Diamond  ran  about  the  lawn  for  a  little  while  in  the  moon- 
light. He  found  part  of  it  cut  up  into  flower-beds,  and  the 
little  summer-house  with  the  coloured  glass  and  the  great 
elm-tree  gone.  He  did  not  like  this,  and  ran  into  the  stable. 
There  were  no  horses  there  at  all.  He  ran  upstairs.  The 
rooms  were  empty.  The  only  thing  left  that  he  cared  about 
was  the  hole  in  the  wall  where  his  little  bed  had  stood;  and 
that  was  not  enough  to  make  him  wish  to  stop.  He  ran 
down  the  stair  again,  and  out  upon  the  lawn.  There  he  threw 
himself  down  and  began  to  cry.    It  was  all  so  dreary  and  lost! 

"I  thought  I  liked  the  place  so  much,"  said  Diamond  to 

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himself,  "but  I  find  I  don't  care  about  it.  I  suppose  it's  only 
the  people  in  it  that  make  you  like  a  place,  and  when  they're 
gone,  it's  dead,  and  you  don't  care  a  bit  about  it.  North 
Wind  told  me  I  might  stop  as  long  as  I  liked,  and  I've  stopped 
longer  already. — North  Wind!"  he  cried  aloud,  turning  his 
face  towards  the  sky. 

The  moon  was  under  a  cloud,  and  all  was  looking  dull 
and  dismal.  A  star  shot  from  the  sky,  and  fell  in  the  grass 
beside  him.    The  moment  it  lighted,  there  stood  North  Wind. 

"Oh!"  cried  Diamond,  joyfully,  "were  you  the  shooting 
star?" 

"Yes,  my  child." 

"Did  you  hear  me  call  you  then?" 

"Yes." 

"So  high  up  as  that?" 

"Yes;   I  heard  you  quite  well." 

"Do  take  me  home." 

"Have  you  had  enough  of  your  old  home  already?" 

"Yes,  more  than  enough.    It  isn't  a  home  at  all  now." 

"I  thought  that  would  be  it,"  said  North  Wind.  "Every- 
thing, dreaming  and  all,  has  got  a  soul  in  it,  or  else  it's  worth 
nothing,  and  we  don't  care  a  bit  about  it.  Some  of  our  thoughts 
are  worth  nothing,  because  they've  got  no  soul  in  them.  The 
brain  puts  them  into  the  mind,  not  the  mind  into  the  brain." 

"But  how  can  you  know  about  that,  North  Wind?  You 
haven't  got  a  body." 

"If  I  hadn't,  you  wouldn't  know  anything  about  me.  No 
creature  can  know  another  without  the  help  of  a  body.  But  I 
don't  care  to  talk  about  that.    It  is  time  for  you  to  go  home." 

So  saying,  North  Wind  lifted  Diamond  and  bore  him  away. 

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CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

I  DID  not  see  Diamond  for  a  week  or  so  after  this,  and 
then  he  told  me  what  I  have  now  told  you.  I  should 
have  been  astonished  at  his  being  able  even  to  report 
such  conversations  as  he  said  he  had  had  with  North  Wind, 
had  I  not  known  already  that  some  children  are  profound  in 
metaphysics.  But  a  fear  crosses  me,  lest,  by  telling  so  much 
about  my  friend  it  should  lead  people  to  mistake  him  for  one 
of  those  consequential,  priggish  little  monsters,  who  are  always 
trying  to  say  clever  things,  and  looking  to  see  whether  people 
appreciate  them.  When  a  child  like  that  dies,  instead  of 
having  a  silly  book  written  about  him,  he  should  be  stuffed 
like  one  of  those  awful  big-headed  fishes  you  see  in  museums. 
But  Diamond  never  troubled  his  head  about  what  people 
thought  of  him.  He  never  set  up  for  knowing  better  than 
others.  The  wisest  things  he  said  came  out  when  he  wanted 
one  to  help  him  with  some  difficulty  he  was  in.  He  was  not 
even  offended  with  Nanny  and  Jim  for  calling  him  a  silly.  He 
supposed  there  was  something  in  it,  though  he  could  not  quite 
understand  what.  I  suspect  however  that  the  other  name 
they  gave  him,  God's  Baby,  had  some  share  in  reconciling 
him  to  it. 

Happily  for  me,  I  was  as  much  interested  in  metaphysics  as 
Diamond  himself,  and  therefore,  while  he  recounted  his  con- 
versations with  North  Wind,  I  did  not  find  myself  at  all  in 

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AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

a  strange  sea,  although  certainly  I  could  not  always  feel  the 
bottom,  being  indeed  convinced  that  the  bottom  was  miles 
away. 

"Could  it  be  all  dreaming,  do  you  think,  sir?"  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"I  daren't  say,  Diamond,"  I  answered.  "But  at  least 
there  is  one  thing  you  may  be  sure  of,  that  there  is  a  still 
better  love  than  that  of  the  wonderful  being  you  call  North 
Wind.  Even  if  she  be  a  dream,  the  dream  of  such  a  beautiful 
creature  could  not  come  to  you  by  chance." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Diamond;    "I  know." 

Then  he  was  silent,  but,  I  confess,  appeared  more  thought- 
ful than  satisfied. 

The  next  time  I  saw  him,  he  looked  paler  than  usual. 

"Have  you  seen  your  friend  again?"  I  asked  him. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  solemnly. 

"Did  she  take  you  out  with  her?" 

"No.  She  did  not  speak  to  me.  I  woke  all  at  once,  as  I 
generally  do  when  I  am  going  to  see  her,  and  there  she  was 
against  the  door  into  the  big  room,  sitting  just  as  T  saw  her 
sit  on  her  own  door-step,  as  white  as  snow,  and  her  eyes  as 
blue  as  the  heart  of  an  iceberg.  She  looked  at  me,  but  never 
moved  or  spoke." 

"Weren't  you  afraid?"  I  asked. 

"No.  Why  should  I?"  he  answered.  "I  only  felt  a  little 
cold." 

"Did  she  stay  long?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  fell  asleep  again.  I  think  I  have  been 
rather  cold  ever  since  though,"  he  added  with  a  smile. 

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AT  THE  BACK  OF  THE  NORTH  WIND 

I  did  not  quite  like  this,  but  I  said  nothing. 

Four  days  after,  I  called  again  at  the  Mound.  The  maid 
who  opened  the  door  looked  grave,  but  I  suspected  nothing. 
When  I  reached  the  drawing-room,  I  saw  Mrs.  Raymond  had 
been  crying. 

"Haven't  you  heard?"  she  said,  seeing  my  questioning 
looks. 

"I've  heard  nothing,"  I  answered. 

"This  morning  we  found  our  dear  little  Diamond  lying  on 
the  floor  of  the  big  attic-room,  just  outside  his  own  door — 
fast  asleep,  as  we  thought.  But  when  we  took  him  up,  we 
did  not  think  he  was  asleep.    We  saw  that " 

Here  the  kind-hearted  lady  broke  out  crying  afresh. 

"May  I  go  and  see  him?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  she  sobbed.  "You  know  your  way  to  the  top  of 
the  tower." 

I  walked  up  the  winding  stair,  and  entered  his  room.  A 
lovely  figure,  as  white  and  almost  as  clear  as  alabaster,  was 
lying  on  the  bed.  I  saw  at  once  how  it  was.  They  thought 
he  was  dead.  I  knew  that  he  had  gone  to  the  back  of  the 
north  wind. 


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